The Bitter Fruit
by AngeloftheMorning1978
Summary: 1933- Living in New York with her over protective father, Olivia is a sheltered and much loved only child to a brooding widower. One day, she discovers that her perfect world is a lie. In an attempt to learn the secrets and lies of her past, she journeys to England to a strange house called Blue Rivers. "Wife/Husband" seires. PLEASE READ "Wife" and "Husband" first!
1. Chapter 1

**1933- Living in New York with her over protective father, Olivia is a sheltered and much loved only child to a brooding widower. One day, she discovers that her perfect world is a lie. In an attempt to discover the secrets and lies of her past, she journeys to England to a strange house called Blue Rivers. To a younger sister and older step brother she hardly remembers and a mysterious, elusive writer that haunts the once great house.**

**Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Arthur**

**Tom Hardy as Eames**

**Natalie Portman as Olivia**

**Keira Knightly as Felicity**

**Matt Bomber as Harold**

_**~ The Bitter Fruit ~**_

_~ Spring 1920 ~_

_ ~ New York Harbor ~_

1.

~ "Is that Lady Liberty?" Olivia asked as she pointed to the large statue standing proudly in the harbor. It had it's own island and all the traveler on the ship were able to sail very close to the impressive structure.

"Yes, it is, sweetheart." Mrs. Williams told her as brushed back the little girl's dark hair as the wind on the deck kept pulling it lose.

Mrs. Williams was a widow. Her lawyer husband had passed away a year ago, leaving her with two boys Olivia's age, and in desperate need of a replacement husband.

Olivia felt a creeping suspicion that Mrs. Williams was locking her sights on her father. The child sensing that other women believed a man like him, with a little girl in tow no less, should not be without a wife.

Olivia pulled away from Mrs. Williams and was relived when her handsome father joined them on the deck.

"My dead, Mr. Bradford, how lovely to see you." the pretty young widow breathed as Arthur stalked to them and lightly plucked Olivia up; helping her to stand on the railing so she could gain a better look at the shores of America.

"Now, it's not so very lady like to have her standing in such a way. Not with the wind as it is and her wearing that pretty dress!" Mrs. Williams chastised with a smile.

"We'll do fine, Mrs. Williams." Arthur said and held Olivia closer to him so she wouldn't fall.

"I can see America!" Olivia whispered and pointed. Her back safely resting against her father as she had a new view to enjoy.

"I can to." he said in her ear and the little girl smiled.

"Arthur, you must come and see us for dinner." Mrs. Williams said in a too cheerful voice. "Your company on the voyage has been the only bright spot on our entire trip and I'd hate to think we would never see you again."

"I'm sure I'll be too busy." Arthur said as Olivia leaned closer over the railing. He held tightly to his daughter, refusing to let her go.

"I know my boys will want to see you." Mrs. Williams said hopefully. "They admire you so much."

The young widow looked at Olivia hopefully.

"Olivia and I have grown so close." she added.

Olivia wished Mrs. Williams would leave them alone. She disliked the times when her father had to do business and couldn't be with her enough. But when other people, especially women, invaded their time, it was too much to bear. She didn't like having to share her father with these desperate, needed widows and old maids. Women who wanted all his attention focused on them and not her.

Olivia glared at Mrs. Williams and shifted on the railing.

"Don't let me fall, daddy." she told her father.

Arthur's warm hands held her fast and she felt safer and better about the world.

"I won't let you go." he told her.

~ The docks of New York were too busy for Olivia's taste. She had always preferred the quite of the countryside. The big house had been a world that slumbered and rose lazily with each new day. A place where the loud and low class were kept away. Here, there was no barrier, no protection against the mass of people who walked around like a herd of cattle.

"Why does that woman keep talking to you like that?" Olivia asked as Arthur carried her past the teams of people who smelled like they didn't bath properly.

"What do you mean?" her asked.

"She keeps smiling at you and acting like you belong to her." the child told him.

Her handsome father smiled at her and didn't respond which vexed her further.

"I'm afraid Mrs. Williams is looking for a husband." he explained as he hailed a motor car and helped her in the back seat. A porter taking their trunks and luggage to the back.

"Are you going to marry that woman?" Olivia cried in fear. She hated Mrs. Williams boys and had been forced to play with them while their mother tried to get her father alone.

"Dearest, I'm not a the kind of man who marries a woman I just met, simply for convenience sake." he told her as he ordered the cab to drive them home. The little girl relived as she watched the workers construct new building.

~ Olivia didn't like her new house. It was too small and narrow, and she could hear people outside on the street if her windows were open. They were in a nice neighborhood, they had a young maid, with a heavy Irish accent. A butler, and a cook. She knew they were hardly poor, but she missed being in the big house she had been born to. The big house was like a cave it was so big and echoed loudly is she and Fel were screaming. There were always places to hide and discover. If the widows were open, you could hear birds singing and the wind rushing in. the wind would bring in the scent of spring and not the foulness that came through the windows here. The noise of boys shouting stick games and using profanities. The smells of other homes cooking and a nasty, dirty smell from motor cars and coal stoves still in use.

In the big house, Olivia and Fel would sneak and hide in the glass room. A big room that house plants and was always warm and cozy. Mother was almost always there with Papa. They would talk and there was always the clack-clack of his typewrite. Mother would tell the girls to leave Papa alone when he was working.

The girls would run away, hand in hand and find Howard or James. The two boys not wanting to play with them. James was a tall boy with dark blond hair who hung out with the workers all day and who was learning to drive the shinny cars.

Howard was too little to be around James, and a boy, so he couldn't play with Olivia and Fel. It was a shame, because Howard was excellent at hide and seek. He always found them and they never found him.

Olivia suddenly missed Howard and Fel. Not James as much because he was older and a servant boy. She missed mother most of all and part of her expected her to be waiting for her here in this narrow house with too many stairs.

She had never been truly alone before. There were other children here, but she didn't know them or want to know them. At the big house, she had Mother and Papa, Howard and Fel. There were also the children in the village when she went to Sunday school. Here, she was alone.

~ Arthur tucked the child into bed that first night, the same as he did every night on the ship and at hotels. She had gotten used to him. This man she didn't remember, but who claimed to be her father was very nice and comforting.

He seemed like he would be strict, but he didn't have the temper that Papa had sometimes. He wasn't the sort the snap at her if she made too much noise. Her father's temper never rose the way Papa's did when he was writing and couldn't make it work. Her father was busy all the time, but his moods were stable and calming. He tolerated no nonsense from her, however. When he told her not to do something, she sensed her punishment would be harsh if she disobeyed him. He always seemed angry, but it was never directed at her.

He bought her new dresses in Paris. He picked out the fabrics and she didn't know how to tell him she didn't like pink and baby blue. He told her the most wonderful stories about her mother and the day she was born. Olivia loved the idea that she had communicated her own name at birth. It made her feel like maybe she was magical somehow.

For some reason, Arthur wanted her to have a finely painted china doll with clothes to match hers, and loads of picture books she was too young to read properly. He made her sit with him at dinner like she was a grown up. The server bringing them food and she pretended she was a real lady.

"Do you like your room?" Arthur asked as he gave her the heavy, china doll she had name Ivory to sleep with.

Olivia looked around the bedroom. The walls were pink and had framed water color prints of butterflies. She bit her lips and tried to be nice.

"Yes." she lied.

Her father smiled.

"Dearest, we can decorate your room any way you want." he assured her.

"Did mother live here?" she asked as he stood to let her sleep.

Her father stopped in his tracks and looked sad.

"No, Dearest." he said sadly. "I'm afraid she didn't."

"Why not?" Olivia asked.

"I'll tell you more about that when you're older." Arthur said and kissed her good night.

~ At one o'clock in the morning, Olivia heard the grandfather clock downstairs chime. She was woke out of her dreams and didn't know where she was. She didn't recognize this ugly pink bedroom.

She wanted her mother. Wanted Fel and Harold and Papa. What was this strange place? It took a few moments to recall that she wasn't home. That she was in America. That mother was dead and her sister was a long way away.

Acting with child like optimism and fearless knowledge of the world. Olivia got dressed and packed a bag. In it she stashed her doll, her picture books and the few photographs she had of her beautiful mother. Pictures of her holding a baby, of her sitting on Papa's lap. Of her holding her and her sister. She wanted to see her mother again. Moving to America had been a bad idea and she had changed her mind.

~ Bravely and foolishly, Olivia left the house in the middle of the night.

She walked to the direction of the large steamer ships before a police man, out on his rounds, spotted the well cared for little girl hauling a heavy suitcase and became suspicious.

~ Arthur felt his heart was fit to break out of his chest when his butler woke him and said there was a policeman downstairs with Olivia.

He pulled on a robe and could scarcely believe his eyes at seeing his daughter fully dressed, carrying the white suitcase he had given her for their trip, and crying.

"Sorry to wake you, sir." the police man said and touched his cap.

"What's happening? Olivia, are you alright?" Arthur asked.

The little girl shook her head.

"Child tried to run away from home, so it seems." the police man said and put a hand on the little girl's shoulder.

"What?" Arthur almost snarled and knelt down to meet the girls warm, brown eyes. "Olivia, what's wrong?"

"I want mother, I want to go back home!" Olivia sobbed.

Arthur looked at the police man.

"I'm sorry this happened. My wife recently passed and our daughter has had a long trip from England." Arthur explained.

"Understandable." the cop sighed and looked fondly at the child. "Little girl, I know you're missing you're mother, but you know she's up in heaven right now, wanting you to take care of your father. She wouldn't like you running off and leaving him alone in this world, would she?"

Olivia only cried harder as she held fast to Arthur.

"It's alright, dearest." Arthur whispered to her. "I'm not mad."

"I want to go home!" Olivia cried. "I want mother!"

"You are home." Arthur told her over and over. "You are home."


	2. Chapter 2

2.

_~ Spring, 1933 ~_

_~ New York City ~_

~ Olivia rolled over in her plush bed and looked up at the ceiling she had stared at every morning since she was six. Her father had not allowed her to move away from home to attend any kind of school. She hadn't even been allowed to go for sleepovers at a girlfriend's house.

When her education was done at the private, girls only school, he enrolled her in a girls only college. She had hoped to meet new friends there, but her father needed her at home and felt she would be safer with him.

Thus, she had missed the experience of dorm life at Barnard.

Still, there was no place she would rather be. Her farther needed her to help him eat correctly and run the house. She feared he might fall into great disrepair if she were to leave him. Several years ago, when all the world went crazy over the market collapsing, her father had suddenly fallen ill and had to be rushed to the hospital.

Olivia was in a panic as the young surgeon operated on him. He had been a lovely man, a bachelor, and made Olivia feel very comforted as he told her father would live. They would talk for longer than necessary and Olivia had even invited him to dine with them once her father had properly recovered. To which, the young doctor, blushed and agreed.

When Arthur saw the affection between his doctor and his daughter, he immediately checked out of the hospital and demanded to be taken home. Easily cutting off the promise of a budding romance for his then seventeen year old daughter.

Still, she wanted to meet someone. Some kind and loving young man who would want to... perhaps... make her a bride one day. He would have to meet her father's approval of course, and very little met with Arthur's approval. She had heard it all her life. Arthur Bradford was a tyrant of industry and was so hard to please, he ran through more foremen than any other factory owner. She found it a little hard to believe at times. Her father was so kind to her and gave her the best of everything. She would never go against the man who had provided such a good home for her. A man whom her late mother had loved and married.

She rolled over in her bed and looked at the weathered photograph of her mother in it's gilt frame.

Ariadne. Such an unusual name. She could scarcely remember the fine born woman. She had been so young when the Spanish Flu had taken her. But looking at her face now, Olivia could see why her father had loved her so well.

She had large expressive eyes and a fine complexion. Her dark hair was fixed neatly and settled on her shoulders. Her dress was fashionable and hemmed to fit her tiny frame.

On her lap, baby Olivia sat. Olivia never understood why in all her pictures, she looked so grumpy. She was not a hateful person at all. She didn't like to cause a fuss or have people talk ill of her or her father. So, she kept to herself and stayed out of people's way. She tried to be a flexible as she could stand to be. Whatever one of her friends wanted to do or go, was just fine with Olivia.

She could never be a business man like her father. Arthur was much more decisive and Olivia was like a scared mouse in comparison. The one time she had rebelled even slightly was with his doctor. She had allowed the young bachelor to hold her hand and kiss her cheek.

In that instant, she pictured a life with him. A white wedding dress. A home of her own, children.

She sighed and started to dress. She had a wedding to go to today.

~ Arthur glared at the newspaper. He was growing less and less fond of living in the city these days and this Depression the country was embroiled in, didn't help. Olivia was always talking about the homeless and how it wasn't their fault. How it was big business that had failed them, and not the common working man. They had agreed to disagree. Arthur telling her simply how it was the arrogance of banks who lean money to people who couldn't pay them back, Olivia countering neatly with the argument that it's the people's job to regulate the banks and not the greedy social fat cats.

Arthur enjoyed these discussions with Olivia. They reminded him of how idealistic her mother had been.

He missed Ariadne. He missed her everyday since he brought Olivia home. His daughter was looking more and more like her mother with every passing year. Even her voice and political views were Ariadne's. He hated the thought of her wanting to get married and leave him. Still, she was only 20 and too young for that sort of thing.

"Morning, Daddy." Olivia called as she joined him at the breakfast table. Her dark hair was neatly pinned up like he liked and she was wearing the school uniform of Barnard collage. A long pleated skirt and sensible blouse. He was glad to find a school for her that would not allow her to wear pants or worse, the short dresses that were in the fashion magazines Olivia was so fond of reading.

The way some of those girls would dress for _Photoplay_, was simply scandalous.

Arthur looked over his newspaper and saw Olivia, as always, had cook prepare a healthy breakfast for him. She didn't let him eat the foods he liked anymore. There had been a scare a few years ago and he had to have emergency surgery. Since then, the health nut doctor he paid too much to see had prescribed a very strict diet.

"Morning, dearest." he grumbled.

"You know I have Cynthia's wedding to attend today." she said as she poured him a glass of juice.

"A friend from school? Is she a senior?" he asked.

"No, a freshman." Olivia corrected. "She's marrying Gregory from Columbia."

"She's only a freshman at Barnard; and her parents are letting her get married?" Arthur questioned.

"She's nineteen, daddy." Olivia laughed.

"Too young for the demands of married life. Not to mention children." Arthur said and started to eat the grain filled toast he hated.

"Oh, daddy." Olivia laughed and handed him a napkin. "You're one to talk, you know I'm the same age as Mother was when you married her."

Arthur stopped chewing and looked at his daughter in surprise.

He had forgotten. How could he have forgotten? Olivia was his convenient wife's child from an affair with her fellow teacher. She wasn't his child by blood, but by the law and a deeply buried secret. He forgot that he and Ariadne had lied on their marriage certificate all those years ago to make Olivia ligament.

He suddenly realized, looking at his beautiful daughter, that she was indeed the same age as her mother when she had been seduced by that scoundrel.

"Dearest, you don't have to go to this wedding today." he said and folded up his paper.

"I'm in the wedding party." Olivia laughed.

"I was thinking we might go to a show today. I can take off work-"

"Daddy!" Olivia chastised.

"It's just, there is sure to be drinking and lewd behavior." Arthur said softly.

"It will be a simple ceremony and the reception will be at the girls parent's house." Olivia told him.

Arthur sighed.

"Will there be dancing?" he asked.

"They set up an outdoor dance floor in the back yard." Olivia told him.

When Arthur shook his head Olivia became irate.

"What was the point of having me take dance lessons, piano lessons and deportment lessons if I'm never to present myself in public? You've refused to allow me to attend the debutant season with my friends and most of them are married now!" she cried.

"Olivia, you have no reason to marry. I provide very well for you and you have no need for a husband. Trust me when I say that husbands are worse than children at times. I should know, before I lost your mother, I drove her to near madness with my ways." he said.

Olivia was not amused.

"But you found love, and so did she. She was allowed to marry whom she wanted and you lived very happily with her till she died." Olivia said plainly.

Arthur wanted to say something, but held back. He had told this lie to Olivia so many times, he was starting to believe it himself. That he and his convenient wife had fallen in love at a train station and he had courted her properly, and with her parent's blessing, while she was teaching school. That they were married a year later and set sail for England a year after that, Olivia already on the way.

Arthur sat back and couldn't help but see Ariadne in his daughter's eyes. That fire that Olivia so seldom showed and the thing he loved most about Ariadne was crackling hot and strong in her child.

"When I lost your mother," he began. "I lost almost everything. All I have in the world is you, Olivia. No woman in her right mind wants to marry me. You're the only one who is willing to put up with me for more than a few hours. I just don't want to see you go to another man's house. To be his treasure when you've always been mine."

"Why do you always say you _lost_ mother?" Olivia asked.

Arthur looked at his daughter in surprise and she looked suspiciously back at him.

"What?"

"You always say you _lost_ mother. You never say she died. Why is that?" she asked.

"Olivia." he sighed and felt irritated. "Go to your friend's wedding if you want, but be home by eight."

"I'll be home by ten." Olivia called after him as he stood and took his paper to read in his study.

~ The party was a simple, but lively event. The wedding ceremony had been at the church and a nice supper had been served for the friends of the bride and groom.

The depression made things more difficult and a lot of the families had to show moderation in regards of the families who were suffering on the streets just now.

But still, there was plenty of cake and sandwiches. Paper lanterns were stung across the back yard giving a cheery, festive light. The dance floor was set up on the grass and already, there was dancing couples alongside the bride and groom.

Ariadne congratulated the newly married couple. Cynthia was a short, plump girl who's hair was too curly and who's face would end up looking like her mothers after a few years. An unfortunate thing for poor Cynthia. But Olivia couldn't help but feel a little jealous of her. She was married.

She would be leaving home in a few hours. Her husband would carry her over a threshold and she would have her own home.

"You look positively _green_." Helen hissed in her ear.

Olivia turned to see her friend from history class smiling at her.

"I'm glad you're here." Olivia said and hugged the girl. She hadn't many friends. She was always half convinced that the other girls in school hated her, but Helen seemed nice to everyone.

"Why would you say I'm green?" Olivia asked as the two girls pulled apart.

"Jealousy." Helen laughed.

"I'm hardly jealous of Cynthia." Olivia said with a roll of her eyes.

"No need to be. Her future isn't as bright at it once was. She_ had to_ get married." Helen whispered that last part.

"Had to?" Olivia whispered back and looked at Cynthia. "Why?"

Helen giggled.

"She's about three months gone, goose." she said.

"What are you talking about?" Olivia asked.

"She's going to have a baby." Helen hissed.

"What?" Olivia gasped in horror. "They just got married!"

"Oh, Olivia, how innocent you are. It's that father of yours. He still keeps you under lock and key huh?" Helen laughed. "Girls our age can have fun with the boys without being married. Just don't get caught like Cynthia did. Now she's saddled to that stupid boy for life."

Olivia looked at the groom. He was too tall, too thin and looked scared. He wasn't very handsome and now that Olivia looked at him closer, neither bride nor groom looked happy.

"Olivia, you know I'll be going to California with my aunt next week." Helen said happily. "You should come with us. I only have my little cousin and the brat is a pain in the ass. It will be fun having a more mellow person around. Keep me out of trouble."

Helen grinned at Olivia and laced their arms together the way best friends did.

"Maybe we could get _you_ into trouble. God knows you need it, kid." she laughed.

"That's sweet of you to invite me, but Daddy will never let me go." she said sadly.

"Oh, I forgot. The warden had you under lock and key for life." Helen sighed.

"It's not like that." Olivia insisted.

"Sure." Helen scoffed.

~ Her thoughts were heavy the next afternoon as she was coming home from class. She couldn't imagine being with a young man beyond the marriage vows but, according to Helen, girls did it all the time. Cynthia, a poor, plump, ugly girl had a boyfriend who liked her enough to want to...

She sighed and ran a hand over her neck in frustration.

It was hardly fair that she should be alone when a girl like that had a husband. Olivia was hardly ugly. She was small, just as her mother had been, but she was slender and her clothes were modest and fashionable. She never attended unchaperoned events. She didn't go to the clubs and her name wasn't talked about except as a joke. Everything about her meant that a suitable young man would want her. Yet, no one did.

She fought a wave of bitterness as she passed a bookshop.

Her father indulged her in clothing, Broadway shows and education. His only stipulation was he monitored closely what she read. Often times he would read the same books, no matter how girlish and silly, so he could have something to talk to her about. She was never permitted to shop for her own reading material.

Feeling reckless, she stormed into the bookshop and headed strait to the romance aisle. Her father had no problems with Austen or the more civilized romantic novels. But he forbade her from reading the trendy books about witches and knights she knew all her other classmates were reading. He said it was evil and all the ministers and parents agreed.

"Miss?" Olivia called to the attendant. "I'm looking for the series about the... well... it's like a romance about a witch and a knight."

She blushed as the attendant smiled.

"Oh, yes." she smiled. "We just got a nice set of Mr. Eames' work in yesterday."

"That's the one." Olivia said stubbornly. "I want it."

"I take it you've never read his work before." the attendant said.

"No." Olivia said as the attendant took in her fine clothes and added a few more books to the bag to get a bigger sale.

"Well, C.R. Eames is the most amazing writer. A war hero who lives in a great castle in England. You will lose yourself to his world." she said as Olivia handed over her cash.

~ On her way home, he looked at the cover of the first book. A simple pair over lover in an embrace. The girl's long dark hair wrapping around the man's body, but it only seemed to hold them tighter.

She felt her pulse quicken again.

_'That's what I want._' she thought and felt a little lighter.

She went to the picture of the author. A dashing man in his mid thirties was there. The bio saying it was the last picture of C.R. Eames known to exist and was taken in 1919 just before the death of his wife.

She started at the picture for a long time. The pedestrians on the sidewalk moving past her as the world slipped away.

"Papa?" she whispered to the picture.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

_~ Blue Rivers ~_

~ Felicity pushed herself deeper into the water. Submerging her whole body into the cold and stillness of the world there.

A strange beauty showed itself as her clothing and hair floated around her. As if she were full of magic and not bound by the real world at all.

Ever since she had been little, she had been fascinated by underwater worlds and what lurked there. The lack of light and eyes that could not penetrate the shadowy places.

Ship wrecks in particular held her high regard, especially _Titanic_. It had already been 20 years since the tragedy, but interest in the disaster was still high. In her uncomplicated world, the wrecks of elegant vessels lay at the bottom of the sea with no blemishes or marks to them. Their bodies perfectly intact and free of decay. As though the ships has simply fallen into sleeping beauty's slumber. An enchanted sleep of dreams until they woke again.

She opened her eyes and looked around her watery world. It was a hot spring day at Blue Rivers and she had once again escaped Maura to go swimming. Maura would surely look for her in the pond she frequented, so Felicity, came up with a plan.

She had remembered the gardener telling Papa when the fountain of a naked Achilles in the rose garden had to be fixed and to not let the children near it.

'_It's deeper than it looks. Lady Percy, in her day, had it built and filled with fish, so it had to be deep._' he had said.

Felicity had no idea why she had forgotten about it until recently. Memories at Blue Rivers were a tricky thing to her sometimes. She wasn't always sure about what things were real and what things were not.

She saw the concrete walls of the fountain, and lily pads floating above her.

'_Titanic sunk into the sea intact._' she thought to herself. A giddy part of her imagining she was in some grand state room on the doomed liner. Forever encased in it's magical sleep.

'_She went into the sea intact and with all her lights burning. Her radio room still broadcasting a cry for help._'

Her lungs were growing tight and she let out a bubble of air. Her body screaming to take in another breath.

_'1,500 souls went into the sea, but they still attend dinner parties in the dinning rooms and lounge on the deck. Lovers still kiss by the grand stair case. All of them are still there, waiting for the ship to dock in New York. They only sleep and never die. There is no death.'_ Felicity thought before a hand grabbed hold of her and pulled her away from her underwater dreams.

"What do you think you're doing?" Howard shouted as he pulled the tall, terribly skinny seventeen year old Felicity Eames from the fountain.

She coughed and took large gulps of air. The fountain really _was_ deep. At least ten feet deep and perfect for swimming.

"Fel." Howard sighed as he took out a cotton handkerchief and dried his hands. He looked out of place among the wild blooming roses and natural landscape he found himself in. He was dressed, as always, in a full on suit that would be better on an old man than a younger one.

'_Harold was born an old man._' Felicity thought

"Good to see you home, Harry." she said and started to climb out of the fountain.

"Maura's gone frantic looking for you." Harold said as he helped her out of the water. She saw him suddenly look away and it dawned on her that she had jumped into he fountain with her summer dress on. The thin fabric clinging to her like a second skin and becoming translucent.

"It was hot today." she said simply and started to shiver from the afternoon chill that was in the air.

"Well it's not hot now and we can't let anyone see you like this." Harold said and shook off his jacket to drape over her.

She had started to wring her hair out and the water splashed on his shoes.

"Sorry, Harry." she said, and meant it.

"Why do you act so peculiar?" Harold asked as she let him cover her body with his jacket.

She gave him a little grin that she knew he could never resist. Her half brother smiled back as he guided her to the back way of the large manor house.

"I've just had the most wonderful thought, Harry." she said and skipped happily beside him as he carried her shoes.

"What now?" he teased as the warmth from the day left the air and she shivered from the sudden coolness.

"The people on Titanic are not dead. They are merely sleeping. They go to the dinning rooms and await the ship to reach New York." she explained very quickly. "Titanic is a beautiful ghost ship that sleeps at the bottom of the sea with all her lights still on."

"Felicity." Howard sighed.

"It's fantastic! Don't you agree?" she asked as they reached the back doors and hurried past the library and up the stairs.

The pair of them were the youth of the house and prowled Blue Rivers like territorial wolves.

"Titanic is perfectly intact and sitting upright on the bottom of the sea!" Felicity went on.

"Fel, while I won't go into the macabre nature of what your subject matter is. Considering there are families who lost loved ones during the disaster." Harold told her.

She rolled her eyes at him.

"The inquest and several witness claim the ship broke in two." he said as he delivered her to her room. A comfy place full of pink flowery wallpaper and fat cherubs on the walls. Felicity had always hated it.

"Bruce Ismay said the ship sank into the sea with her lights on and intact!" Felicity almost shouted at her half brother as she threw off his suit jacket and started to strip her thin dress off in the bathroom.

"Bruce Ismay is a liar and a coward. Notice how many third class women and children died while he made it off the ship?" Howard told her as he stayed safely behind the bathroom door.

"And I suppose you would have ensured I got off the ship before you got onto a life boat?" Felicity laughed.

"Knowing you, you would have been swimming in the dinning room while people were fleeing for their lives." Harold told her with a laugh.

"Oh, I would have had a romantic adventure before the ship went into her watery sleep." Felicity sighed as she came back out in a warm robe.

She sank on the flower patterned chair and looked dreamily out the window.

"I think I would have fallen in love with a poor but honest young man, and he would have given his life to save me." she said in a far off whisper. "Then, when Titanic awoke, I would be an old woman, and the ship would return my lost love to me. Only he would still be young and I would be old."

"You would be old and he would be dead." Harold corrected.

"Yes." Felicity said happily. "Like Romeo and Juliet we would cross over together and be young and in love forever."

She looked at her half brother curiously.

"Have you ever been in love, Harold?" she asked critically.

"When I was young and foolish." he told her.

"_You_ were young?" she asked smartly.

"The old man wants to see us." Harold said at last.

"Oh, Papa and his work." Felicity said in hateful tone. "He's locked up in the conservatory all day and night. Never goes to his own rooms to sleep. You know he had mother's portrait moved there after you left for school?" she asked.

"I know, I saw." Harold said. "We really must get him outside at least once this spring."

"He likes to be a hermit." Felicity said indifferently.

"Well, we are his children and we can't let him." Harold told her.

"Papa loved mother so much he practically buried himself with her." Felicity said. Her voice far away and romantic again.

"I know." Harold said.

"Do you think I'll ever find a love like that?" she asked hopefully.

"I'm certain you won't find it in the bottom of the fountain. Men of character are not interested in girls as silly as you can be." he told her sternly.

"Oh what do you know?" Felicity chided playfully. "You've just come back from America and I'll bet you didn't spend time with any girls there. You even talk more American now. Papa will hate it!"

She suddenly looked delighted.

"Harlold, we must show you off to Papa in you fancy American clothes and you simply must talk like that horrid movie star he hates.

"Who?" Howard asked.

"Oh what's his name, from the movies. You know who I'm talking about. The one who's always angry all the time and smokes." she said with a wave of her hand as she ran to her closet to get dressed.

"They all smoke in Hollywood Land." Howard laughed as she dressed quickly.

"I need to take up smoking." Felicity mused. "All the glamorous people smoke."

"Fel." Harold sighed.

"What? I can't be the only girl in Paris who isn't a smoker!" Felicity said sharply.

"That's what I came you to talk about." he said sadly. "You won't be going to Paris this summer."


	4. Chapter 4

4.

_~ New York City ~ _

~ The scar, the lips and facial hair stubble. She had seen them before. Somewhere in the shrouded memories of her childhood. A place where she knew mother lived and she was happy and carefree.

Olivia threw her new books on her bed and raced to her closet, pulling up a floor panel where she stashed all her secret things from her father and snooping maids. Long ago, she had hidden pictures she had from before she came to live with him. The old photographs were mostly over her mother, but occasionally, a strange face would crop up beside her. A face part of her remembered in some sort of far away life she no longer lived.

She could scarcely remember the faces in them and was always uncertain about who they were. The images were now blurry and aged after almost 20 years. There were no dates or names on the backs of the thick paper. Olivia searched each one for her mother's handwriting; finding nothing.

She flipped through candid photographs of her mother. A young girl with light colored hair and eyes. An old woman who looked angry all the time. A boy with light eyes she didn't remember, and finally...

She sucked in her breath.

'_C. R. Eames_.' she thought as she sat the photograph on the floor and stared at it. He was sitting by a typewriter and there was a baby on his lap. He was smiling at whomever was holding the camera and the baby was sitting happily in a frilly dress.

Olivia focused on his surroundings and saw plants were around him. Was he outside? Why was he writing outside? Did he know her mother? How could he have known her mother, and why did she used to think of him as Papa?

She tried to remember. Her mind going back to being on a big boat with her father and seeing Lady Liberty. Of women flirting with her him as he bought her a pink dress in Paris. Of leaving a big house with her father. Of her mother's wake...

She gasped and tried not to cry as a sharp pain in her chest made her place her hand to her heart.

Mother. He was at Mother's funeral and so was this boy. The boy with the kind eyes held her hand and would bring her flowers if she would kiss him.

Smells. Smells of springtime coming through an open window. Birds singing. Swimming in a pond with water so blue, it was like ink.

_'Blue Rivers._' she remembered.

~ Olivia watched her father eat his dinner and read his paper at the same time.

"Daddy, don't read at the table." she told him dryly. "It's poor manners."

Arthur sighed and folded his paper up.

"Right you are, dearest." he said. "I forgot to ask you, how was the wedding?"

"Fine." Olivia said. "Turns out Cynthia is in a family way, that's why she got married."

Arthur let out a huff as he ate his soup.

"I hope I'll never have to worry about that with you." he said.

"Well, you don't have to worry. I'm not even allowed to _meet_ boys." Olivia told him bitterly.

"Olivia," Arthur sighed. "I have a friend who has a son about your age. I've worked with his father for years now. I think we might have them over for dinner one night-"

"I'm not going to be fixed up by my father!" Olivia suddenly snapped.

Arthur was looking at her in shock as she tried to breath normally. She felt like she was drowning and fighting for air.

Her whole world, perfect and pampered all her life, was crumbling.

If felt like ice cold water was pouring in through the windows and she was forced to sit at her dinner chair until she was excused. She was drowning! Couldn't he see she was drowning?

"I was thinking." Olivia said in a shaky voice.

"About?" Arthur said looking at her nervously.

"My friend Helen will be going with her Aunt and cousin to California." Olivia told him.

Arthur looked at her. Already knowing what she wanted.

"Absolutely not, Olivia." he told her.

"Daddy, California is civilized now." she pleaded.

"You won't be properly chaperoned. I've read about the gangsters there." he said.

"Daddy, there are gangsters here." she scoffed.

"You'll spend your summer at home just like always. I need you and you've been meaning to take harp lessons anyway." he told her.

"I'm going with Helen and her family. It's only for the summer and I've already told her I would." she said bravely.

"No. You. Will. Not." Arthur said. His words like glass that she feared if she pushed much farther, she would brake their bond that had always been so strong.

She took a deep breath.

"I'm 20 years old now. Girls younger than me are getting married, starting families." she said in a shaky voice.

"Other girls." Arthur scoffed. "Not you. Not my daughter."

She wanted to say, '_I'm not your daughter. There was another man I called Papa._' But held back with visible effort.

"I'm going." she said at last.

"Enough!" Arthur shouted and banged his fist on the table.

Olivia stood and glared at him.

"Go to your room. I'll call the doctor in the morning." he snarled. "You're obviously not well."

"No." she shouted. "I'm leaving with my friend and spending the summer with her and her family."

"We will discuss this after you've calmed down." Arthur said stiffly and rang for the maid.

Olivia had been trained to not say a word in front of servants beyond small talk. As soon as the maid appeared, they both fell silent.

"My daughter will take her supper upstairs." Arthur said curtly. "She is not feeling well."

Olivia felt tears sting her eyes as if she had been slapped.

She didn't want to be around him anymore; didn't care if she never saw him ever again.

She hated this home, her bedroom and this life she had been forced to live in. It wasn't a life at all. She had no friends and no relations who could tell her anything.

C.R. Eames. That's who would have all the answers.

~ In her bedroom that night, she packed. She wasn't sure what had changed in her, but she wasn't the same person she had been before the wedding. She felt she was becoming something else. _Someone _else.

She was changing into the person she wanted to be.

She packed a simple bag, and looked over her new books.

"C.R. Eames lives in his family estate in England." she read aloud.

That's where she had to go if she wanted answers.

~ "Olivia, are you sure about this?" Helen asked bright and early at the train station.

Olivia knew her father well enough to know that he wouldn't rouse from his room until after 7am and not a moment sooner or later. She had escaped that morning from the house with only a small suitcase and light traveling clothes.

"Just mail the post cards each week from California." Olivia said as Helen's aunt boarded the train. "That way he won't worry and will think I'm having the time of my life there. I've already put the dates on each one so you'll know in which order to mail them and when."

"Olivia, where are you going?" Helen asked. "I mean, a girl like you running away from home? Next thing you'll tell me pigs will fly."

Olivia was slightly incensed by the remark.

"I'm going to visit an old family friend of my mothers." she said sharply. "I'll have to travel abroad and stay for several months." she said.

"With only one bag?" Helen asked. "Olivia, you're being silly. Come with me to California. I promise we'll have fun. Were going to try and meet Clark Gable!"

"I'll be fine." Olivia said and hugged her only real friend.

"Very well." Helen said. "I'll mail them, but if the warden comes looking for you, what should I say?"

"That I'm with Mr. C.R. Eames, in England." Olivia said with a daring laugh.

~ The steamer ship gave out a shrill whistle as Olivia boarded to make the Atlantic crossing.

She looked at her ladies wrist watch. The one her father gave her for her birthday. It was nine in the morning and she knew he was already wondering where she was. She had left a note that she had an early ladies club meeting, and hopefully, it would buy her more time.

"Welcome aboard The_ Olympic_, miss." a crew member said as she looked up at the grand ship.

She summoned whatever bravery had gotten her this far, and boarded the grand ship.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

_~ Blue Rivers ~ _

_~ England ~_

~ Eames was lost in the worlds he was creating. Ages ago, after Arthur stole Olivia from him, he had doted on Harold and Felicity to the point of near exhaustion. The three of them would take long camping trips in the woods outside of Blue Rivers and he would listen to Felicity's wild stories she made up with Harold trying always to be practical.

His daughter had the best imagination of anyone he knew. A gift from her mother and father. Felicity was never out of ideas for a story like Eames sometimes was. She would read a book or go to a show, only to come home and improve upon it. She had countless notebooks on how a picture show or novel should have ended.

By far the best stories she gave her father were the ones he had turned into a series of children's novels.

'_Tristan and Felicity_' was about a young girl living with her father in a spooky old manor house. One day in the woods, she meets a spirit who takes her away to a sort of underwater world. One where she lived happily for centuries. When she returned to the real world, fifty years had passed and she was still a child. Her father long dead after years of looking for her. The people who now lived in the house, didn't know what to make of the little girl who suddenly appeared in the forest outside their house. They had heard stories about a missing girl from a half century ago, but thought she had died.

They take the girl in and their son becomes her new playmate. The children are able to enter the strange world again because the girl had spent so long in a magical realm and could now bring others into it.

Eames had to admire how effective and never ending the stories could be. He named the girl after his own daughter and modeled the boy after Harold.

Tristan and Felicity had many adventures in the other world. But there was always the lingering question; would they return to the real world to find another fifty years had passed and they were still children?

His publisher and his readers were rabid to know, and he had no answers for them.

His creative muse wasn't interested in childish fairy tales anymore. She was flattered and happy at first, but his Felicity was almost eighteen now and a grown woman. She was only interested in love stories and young men at parties.

It was to Eames' shock and horror that he heard she had stripped down to her underthings and gone swimming during a hot summer luncheon the ladies at the church had put on.

Harold had not been there to fish her out and the minister's wife had to scold her into compliance that day.

Eames' had to admit that his daughter had Ariadne's talent and good looks, but she was blessed and cursed with his own audacity and foolishness.

He worried about her all the time these days. Felicity was beautiful by any standered. She was well educated, poised and naturally graceful.

It was no wonder the young men were after her now. For over a year now, a the young men of Blue Rivers and London had written, telephoned and even come to the house in an effort to seek an audience with the eccentric writer about properly courting his daughter.

Like all journalist and nosy fans, Eames had the butler turn them away. Harold politely informing them that C.R. Eames would not be entertaining guests today, or any other day.

Thus it was, by ignoring the problem, he made it go away.

Felicity would never marry; he decided. She was too wild in her ways and like a child most of the time. Men may have thought her behavior was cute and funny at first, but that would grow old as she refused to grow up.

He looked at blank sheet of paper and wished the ideas would come to him as easily as they did before. When his clever little daughter would spin tales so easily about faeries in the woods. How she and Harold would build a little fairy village in the woods and how she left clues for Tristan to find in the future.

They had been wonderful days, and almost eased the pain of losing Ariadne.

He looked up at his late wife's portrait.

"What do I do now, Ariadne?" he asked the large portrait of a pretty dark haired young woman in a fashionable blue dress.

"I've lost the words. I don't know how the story ends." he said sadly.

Ariadne gave him no help. She had been most unhelpful these past fifteen years.

"PAPA!" came a shriek from the great hall and a willowy thin young woman burst into the conservatory and marched boldly to his writing desk.

"Felicity?" Eames asked dryly as he stood to greet his hot headed only child.

"I'm sorry, sir." Harold was saying as he tried to pull Ariadne's daughter back. "I told her about canceling the tour to Paris."

Eames sighed.

"You're not going to Paris." he told the beautiful girl Ariadne had given him.

"Why not?" Felicity yelled. "I went last year!"

"Last year was different. Hitler wasn't being taken a seriously last year." Eames said dryly.

"Hitler?" Felicity questioned. "What's he got to do with whether or not I go to Paris?"

"Hitler and his little group are causing a lot of trouble in the rest of Europe right now." Eames said and ran a hand over his forehead. "I don't want you going there until we see how this will end."

"That radical separatist group?" Felicity questioned. "They are no worse than the socialists you've been going on about."

"Hitler is different." Eames said sternly. "Until him and his group are resolved, you won't leave England. Am I clear?"

"Papa!"

"You're mother would have agreed with me." Eames said waving at Ariadne's portrait. "She would have wanted you safe. There are people literally fleeing from Germany and Poland right now because of that man and his fancy speeches. This isn't something to be taken lightly.

"Hitler isn't going to Paris, Papa!" Felicity shouted and slammed her hands on his desk.

"Felicity." Eames said with a dangerous flash of anger crossing over his eyes. "I've rarely put my foot down about anything before, but you will not be venturing beyond England until I am satisfied you'll be safe."

"The world isn't safe, Papa." Felicity said. "Hiding here in the conservatory won't protect you from life."

Eames felt wounded by her daughter's hateful words.

There were only two people he had ever truly loved. One he had been forced to bury, the other stood before him with a look of such hatred and rebellion, he wondered what happened to his once shinny, wonderful daughter.

"Still trying to figure out how to end Tristan's story?" Felicity said and stood as strait as if she had a rod up her back. She glanced at her father in a haughty, high society manner she had been taught at finishing school.

"Make them come back to reality still children and his parents long dead and gone. Make them live in the real world and never able to go back to the underwater realms again. Have them live in the spooky house, always searching for a way back, until they die of old age. The reader needs to learn it's okay to finally grow up." she said and stormed out of the conservatory.

Harold looked saddened and turned to follow her, leaving Eames alone.

He looked at Ariadne's portrait. Asking silently for help with their impossible offspring. For the first time since her death, he heard her voice come into his head.

'_That's a good idea._' it said.


	6. Chapter 6

6.

~ Sailing aboard a once magnificent transatlantic ship, wasn't what Olivia thought it would be. _Olympic_ was launched a year before _Titanic_ and resembled her doomed sister ship in almost every way, right down to it's impressive grand staircase. However, during it's more than two decades of service, the once regal ocean liner had enured many crossings and was even pressed into service as a troop transport during the great war.

The war didn't suit the ship very well, and she had lost some of her former glory. Because of the depression, very few people could afford to travel, and those that did, chose a newer, faster ship. Olivia had made the sensible decision to travel second class at a better rate; so as to go both undetected and save money. She had a fair amount of pocket money, but knew it had to get her to see Mr. Eames, and back home again.

She had high hopes for travel on such a regal ship. Her father had never cared for travel at all. On their crossing home, he had refused to undress for bed and stayed up, fully dressed, in a chair next to her. It was as if he expected the boat to sink and he wanted to put Olivia in the life boats as soon as possible. He had made sure he knew where the life vests were and that Olivia never strayed far from his sights.

She had never asked him about it, but she sensed he had a fear of the ocean.

Despite all her hopes of grand world travel, she found the crossing dull and aggravating. The cabin Olivia had to stay in was too cramped and there was an odd smell to it. The passengers were mostly foreigners who were going back to the old county.

The food on the ship was barely editable and she was constantly surrounded by strangers.

She was starting to think this was a bad idea. She should telegraph her father and see what could be done about arranging her passage back home. Back to a place where she didn't have to share a bathroom with another family or eat in a common dinning hall. Her father would have never allowed her to travel like this.

'_No._' she thought stubbornly. '_I have to do this. I have to know who Mr. Eames is to my mother and why I remember him._'

A few days out on the open waters, and Olivia was able to relax as America vanished from her memory and she knew her father thought she was in California.

Everyday, she would go outside on the spacious decks and read her books. She found the love story between the knight and the witch to be thrilling and felt her body grow warm and excited just from reading it.

_~ William had found them a safe place to stay during the storm that had come up. The winds __and rain had appeared as if from nowhere and he couldn't help but feel the witch had summoned them into existance just so they could stop for the night. _

_ The castle had long ago been abandoned and he and his charge found refuge in one of the grand rooms that was haunted only by shadows now. She watched him build a fire and dry their clothes. _

"_I'm hot!" Anya cried as she draped her body on a chair and William saw her coarse dress shift off her shoulder. Her pale and perfect breast peeking out at him. "Feel my skin, I'm on fire!"_

_ He tried not to look at her, her dark eyes were like pools of deep water. A place so splendid and perfect, he could drown there and be happy. _

"_William?" Anya said as she started stoking her exposed breasts. "Please help me, I'm so hot."_

_ He felt his blood prick angrily at the tone of her voice. Like a hateful siren song. Challenging her to come and ravish her. Daring him to touch her, taunting him to take her body. _

"_Enough." William said and moved away from the witch that had taken control of the young maid's body. _

"_William, I'm not a witch." she said and moved off the chair, Her dress slipping off her body and she stood beautiful and pale in the firelight. _

_ He couldn't breath right as he gazed hopelessly at the form before him. She was the reason men went insane with lust. This vision of curves and softness. Of beauty and cruelty all wrapped together in a maddening creature called woman. _

"_Anya." he breathed. "Put your dress back on."_

"_Inspect me, William." she said stubbornly. "Try to find the mark of the witch. The church men looked at my body; touched me. They couldn't find one." _

"_Anya, stay away." he warned as she moved closer to him. Her dark hair covering her naked breasts and he could only think of devouring her whole. Of throwing her on her back and making her scream in ecstasy. _

"_Anya." he pleaded._

~ "Shame on you!" came a friendly voice in a heavy Brooklyn accent.

Olivia jumped back into the real world to see a teenage girl with hair so blond it was white, grinning at her.

"What?" Olivia asked as she shut her book and tried to shake off William and his lust for the witch.

"The witch and her knight?" the girl laughed and pointed to the book. "_Loved_ that book. I've read them all, and I won't tell you how it ends, so don't worry. Don't let anyone see you reading it though. Lot's of old biddies on the ship now. One of them might throw it overboard!"

"Who are you?" Olivia asked as she shifted in her deck chair.

The girl smiled and sat next to her.

"My name is Hollisen. But you can call me Holly. So, you're a fan of C.R. Eames?" Holly asked.

"So far, yes." Olivia said shyly as the teenager sat in the deck chair next to her. She had a small, intelligent face, and Olivia guessed her age to be around fifteen.

"I've loved his work since I was thirteen. I've been looking for my William ever since. I plan to seduce him just like Anya did to. I even like the new stuff, I know it was written for kids, but it's really interesting. It makes me want to leave little notes and things for boys in the future. It was such a departure from his romance novels, don't you think?" Holly asked. Her eyes hopeful for a friend to discuss literature with.

"Children's books?" Olivia asked.

"_Tristan and Felicity_?" Holly asked. "Don't tell me you've never read them. Their the bees knees, kid!"

Olivia smiled at how friendly Holly was to a total stranger.

"Why are you going to England?" Holly asked at length.

"I'm going to meet Mr. Eames." she said and showed her new friend the dust jacket.

Holly laughed.

"You really don't know the first thing about him, do you? I've got a scrap book in my room all about him I can show you. I'm his biggest fan. C.R. Eames has never left his home. Or allowed visitors to see him. Not since his wife died." she said. "I've read all about him. He was this horrid playboy with a scandalous reputation as far as women were concerned, then he goes to war and comes back this great hero!" she went on. "It's rumored he was so depressed, shell shock you know, he tried to kill himself by setting fire to the grand old house he lived in and killed his great Aunt. Nothing could be proven of course. Then, the lady who married him found him and saved his life, and they got married and he adopted her son and daughter. She had been married, but her husband died in the war. Then, she died of the Spanish Flu and he's been up there alone ever since."

"How awful!" Olivia sighed. "The poor man."

"Yes, he never grants interviews and no one has seen him in years. He lives in this big, half empty house and writes all day." Holly said proudly.

"Well, I'm still going to see him. I think he might have known my mother." Olivia said and pulled out the old picture of her mother with the mysterious C.R. Eames.

"That's not you mother." Holly said as she looked at the picture.

"Yes it is. She died when I was six years old. I don't really remember her, but I found this picture of Mr. Eames and her. I think I remember him, but my father would never tell me how that's possible. So, I'm going to England to meet him and find out for myself." she finished with a nod of determination.

"No." Holly said. "That's not what I mean."

Olivia looked confused.

"That can't be your mother because that's C.R. Eames' late wife." Holly said. "Ariadne Eames. The one who died in 1919."

**Sorry it took so long to update. Computer drama.**


	7. Chapter 7

7.

~ Olivia looked over the impressive scrap book that Holly had spent years working on. She not only was C.R. Eames' biggest fan, but she had still more scrap books of movie stars and other writers. Holly was a pop culture fanatic about books and film stars.

"There was this article about him, and it had a photograph of the whole family. His wife's picture is in the insert." Holly explained happily as Olivia sat on her bed and the girls looked at the yellowing article.

There were two black and white pictures. One of a grand house in the countryside, the other was an oval framed photograph of...

'_Mother?_' Olivia thought to herself but didn't say it out loud.

"Ariadne Eames passed away in 1919." Holly explained and flipped the pages of her scarp book. "See, there is one of them here to."

Olivia almost gasped at seeing her mother's pretty face in the faded yellow. She was holding a baby and Eames was standing proudly next to her.

'_Was that me when I was born?_' she wondered.

"That's right after Ariadne's daughter Felicity was born. Her husband had died during the war and Eames adopted the baby as soon as it was born, along with her little boy. He told an interviewer once he based the stories of Tristan and Felicity on the stories his children would tell him." Holly said.

"Did... did they have any other children?" Olivia asked.

"No, just the two." Holly said. "And I think they both still live with him."

Olivia looked over the pictures of the big house.

"This is where he lives?" she asked.

"Blue Rivers. Yes." Holly said happily. "It was once this great house and family, but they went bankrupt right before _Titanic_ sank and this rich American relative came and bailed them out. He died a few years later and left Eames very wealthy. Lucky break!" Holly said. "Eames hasn't given an interview in years and _never_ talks about his late wife. He's so secretive, I suppose it's apart of his charm." Holly giggled.

Olivia read over the articles with lighting speed. All of them were sappy, over complimentary dribble that was suited for teen readers like Holly.

She searched for evidence that her mother, Ariadne, had been married before, but all it said was her husband had died in the war. It didn't even mention her first husband's name.

"See? Eames' wife died." Holly said.

Olivia fought back the urge to cry as she wanted to be anywhere but with Holly just now.

"Maybe you're dad told you that woman was your mother."Holly said sympathetically.

"Maybe." Olivia said with a shaky voice.

She knew who her mother was. She remembered her even if she remembered little else.

"Harold Hays?" Olivia asked as she came to the bottom of the article.

"Who?" Holly asked.

"It says all fan mail and inquires need to go through someone named Harold Hays." Olivia said and pointed to the bottom of the page.

"Oh, his son is named Harold." Holly said helpfully. "He runs his father's... I don't know... empire or what not."

"I think I'll see him first, if Mr. Eames is not accepting visitors." Olivia said in her best charm school girl voice. A voice she had learned to use when she wanted to impress.

"Are you really going to see Mr. Eames?" Holly said with wonder. "I mean, just because of some old picture?"

"It's more than a picture, Hollison." Olivia said in her best grown up voice.

She wanted to say more. How Ariadne Eames was really Ariadne Bradford. How she was her mother and Olivia remembered Blue Rivers and calling this man papa.

But she bit down her fears and said nothing. It wouldn't due to voice any suspicions yet. If she gave voice to her fears, that might be the thing that would make it real.

How could she explain to a simple girl like Holly, a girl who had scrap books of celebrities and debutantes, how strange this mystery was?

~ She dreamed every night she was on the ship. The movements of the ocean caused deeply buried ghosts to rise up and haunt her subconscious. She dreamed her mother was in bed with her. That the pair of them were giggling and having secret girl talk that only best friends would have.

Ariadne looked as young as she did in the photographs, but not quite as lovely. She looked more human in Olivia's dreams. More like a real person with insecurities, fears, blemishes and unruly hair.

"I still can not believe Arthur wouldn't let you date." Ariadne huffed as Olivia kept the blanket over them like a tent. "Well of course I believe it, that's so like him. Did he tell you about the time I escaped the hotel in Paris to go to museums?" Ariadne's eyes danced. "Oh he was so mad!"

The two girls giggled happily under the bedding as their faces were close together.

Olivia grinned at the pretty girl who looked just about her age. She felt she was talking more to a sister than a mother just now.

"I know I should stand up to him, but I don't want to disappoint him or make him feel a boy is more important than he is." Olivia said; trying to explain.

"I made Arthur mad at me all the time, he love it." Ariadne said and gave her daughter a wide smile. "He would get mad at me, we would fight, then..." she looked very happy at the memory. "we would go to bed and make up."

Olivia felt her jaw drop as her mother gave her a knowing look.

"Arthur is many things with his clothes on. Rude, belligerent, controlling, egotistical and selfish but he was a very compassionate lover and I always loved being with him." Ariadne said to Olivia's shocked expression.

"Well, I can't exactly do_ that_!" Olivia laughed as Ariadne had a happy smile on her face. "Besides, I think he might be different now, I mean, since you died." Olivia said and Ariadne's face fell.

"I know." she said in a whisper.

Ariadne rolled on her side and looked at Olivia for a long time.

"I think you look like me." she said at last.

Olivia felt herself smile happily and Ariadne ran a hand over her daughter's hair.

"I fell in love with this face of yours since the day you were born. I've never loved anything so much in my life. I'm so sorry I left you." she said in a sad, whispered voice.

Olivia felt ready to cry. She wanted to talk about boys,books, sex and clothing with her mother and not so much about things they couldn't change.

"Why did you marry daddy?" Olivia asked. "Was it because he was rich?"

Ariadne rolled her eyes.

"I know he's difficult sometimes." she sighed and laughed.

"He's impossible!" Olivia cried happily.

Ariadne smiled to herself with her own secret memories.

"I loved your... your daddy very much." she said at last.

Olivia noticed how her mother fumbled when she said it.

"I know how he can be, but he was very good to me, and he loves you." Ariadne went on.

"I know he loves me." Olivia agreed and started to cry.

Ariadne smiled at her daughter.

"I'm so proud of the young woman you've become. I always wanted to be the kind of lady you are now." she said.

Olivia looked at her mother in shock.

"I'm not a lady, mother. Not like you were." she said and Ariadne laughed.

"Olivia! I'm not exactly a saint. I lived my life you know."

"Who is Mr. Eames? Why is your picture in the paper as his wife? You were Daddy's wife. I saw your marriage certificate." Olivia asked and Ariadne looked sad.

"Why are there no wedding photos of you and Daddy? Why did he have to go to England to collect me after you died? Why wasn't I always with him?" Olivia asked.

"Olivia..." Ariadne whispered and looked ready to cry.

"Is Eames my real father?" Olivia asked quickly because she felt the dream was collapsing from under her.

"Olivia..." Ariadne whispered and the young woman woke up in bed alone.

~ Holly proved to be good company for the rest of the slow voyage. Olivia suddenly wanted to be at Blue Rivers so badly, she felt she might burst. If she could have, she would had run all the way to there. The ship was too slow and she wondered for the hundredth time how people could stand it. She had always lived in a world where everything moved fast. Even the city she loved so much was a fast city. On the ship, days were long and lazy.

Finally, the _Olympic_ docked in Liverpool, England.

The air was different here and despite it being nearly summer, there was a chill that morning as Olivia departed.

"I want you to have my scrap book. It will help you find Mr. Eames if you know more about him." Holly said and gave her the bulging book.

"Holly I couldn't. You've worked so hard on it." Olivia said as the girl and her family hailed a cab. Her loud, boisterous mother was trying to wrangle the other children into the car as Holly held back.

"I believe you." Holly whispered. "That your mother knew Mr. Eames. I think you will meet him and when you do, I want you to get an autograph for me. You can mail it back to me, don't worry. My address in London is inside the book."

Olivia barely had time to thank her, before the girl was gone. Like a good fairy, Holly had given her information that only deepened the mystery.

~ Olivia took the train to London and looked forward to when she could stay at a hotel. Mr. Harold Hays, who would surely have answers for her, had an office there and she could ask him all about her mother. Chances were excellent, Holly or the newspapers were wrong about Ariadne Eames. Or, Maybe... Olivia gasped at the thought.

'_Maybe mother had a twin sister._'

Olivia felt herself smile at the thought of cousins. Of family she had never suspected. That could be it. But no, the paper clearly said Ariadne was his wife's name. That she had two children from a previous marriage. The names Olivia or Bradford didn't even enter into the article at all.

She sighed and worried over what Mr. Hays would tell her once she got to London.


	8. Chapter 8

8.

_~ London ~_

~ Harold was not having a good day. Felicity had suddenly decided to run away from home again and was now staying with a school friend in London. She and Eames were fighting more and more these days and it pitted Harold in the middle.

Other times, Harold would simply watch them argue. Both of them were witty and intelligent. They could argue in a way that would put politicians to shame and it was highly entertaining to him at dinner time.

In a way, he agreed with Eames about Felicity not going to Paris for the summer. She had come back from her last trip far too wild and flirtatious with the young men. Eames had mumbled that Felicity was cursed with her mother's good looks, but his own libido.

At the time, Harold didn't understand what he meant, but he had his suspicions. Since he was very young, Felicity as his sister nave made much sense. He never spoke a word about his suspicions to Eames and certainly not to her. He cherished Felicity since that dreadful time when his pretty step mother passed away and left him alone.

He missed and needed Ariadne to make him feel safe. His step mother always seemed to make room for him and managed to make him feel important and needed. After she died, he was devastated and felt his family fell apart. Eames vanished into his own worlds and Felicity and Maura was all he had. Mara raised the the pair of them and wove them stories about their mother as if she were a fairy princess. It helped with the grief of losing someone like Ariadne Eames, but Harold always felt the loss.

~ "Mr. Hays, you have a visitor." came the tall, skinny office assistant. The youth carrying a stack of papers for Harold to look over and make changes to. It was a full time job, managing Eames' money. Especially since Eames or Felicity were not willing or capable to do it. He had refused to leave Blue Rivers, even to live in a small house in the village. It cost a great deal of money and work to keep a house like that running, even when most of the room lay empty. Thus Harold had his hands full and was grateful that Eames' books sold so well.

"Who is it?" Harold mumbled as he reached for his phone to call the bank.

"I don't know, pretty girl." the clerk said glancing back.

Harold peered around the desk to see a slender creature with dark hair standing in the waiting room. Felicity looked oddly put together this morning. What was more intriguing, it was still morning. That lazy girl never roused herself until after lunch.

"It's my sister." Harold said. "Let her in."

The clerk shuffled out and Harold heard talking before the sound of heels entering his office and a door shunting. Harold was in the middle of dialing the bank when he spoke to his sister.

"Fel, you're trying to make a good impression or something? You look like you're ready to plead your case before the magistrate. I've talked to your father and I agree with him. Paris is out for now."

"I'm sorry, I'm here to see Harold Hays, I was told to come in." a voice said.

Harold stood. It was an American accent and he wasn't ready for it.

He looked over expecting to see his sister, and was shocked by the appearance of a young woman looking so much like Felicity, he had to stare at her for a long time just to be certain it wasn't her in some sort of disguise.

He saw she was growing uncomfortable as he took in her neatly curled dark hair, her large,expressive eyes and small, delicate facial features. Her face was almost exactly like Felicity's, but everything else about her was different. Her clothing was fashionable, but a sensible dove gray color with white piping. She even wore a hat and matching gloves which was a thing Felicity would never do. This young woman also wore light make up, while Felicity was convinced more was better.

"I'm so sorry." Harold said a little breathlessly. "I'm Harold Hays." he said and extended his hand to her.

She shook it and gave him a nice smile.

"I'm Olivia Bradford." she said with a sigh. "I've come from America to meet Mr. C.R. Eames."

Olivia, this _Miss. Olivia Bradford from America_, promptly took a seat in front of his desk and left him dumfounded as to what to say or do next.

Harold slowly sat down in his chair, unable to keep his eyes off the pretty young woman who sat across from him.

"Now," Olivia said and sat her purse that cleverly matched her hat and gloves on her lap. "Are you the one I need to speak with about arranging a meeting?"

"I-" Harold started.

"I won't hear any prepared speeches about how Mr. Eames doesn't receive visitors. I've a friend who bought that lovely and tragic story you've so artfully sold to the press about his late wife and how he's still grief stricken. I understand that Mr. Eames' allure is his reclusive habits, and I promise never to go to the papers with any information about him. I'll even sign a confidentiality agreement. I know your interests are in protecting his interests, but _my_ interests are finding out certain thing about my own life. Somehow, they involve Mr. Eames and I would like for you to afford us the opportunity to have us meet." she said and sat primly on her chair. "Please." she added and looked a little winded.

Harold felt himself smile. He couldn't help it. It was like she was a little girl playing dress up and acting like a grown up. Only, he had known this girl once. Knew her when she was little and used to play dress up in their mother's dinner gowns. Knew her when he used to bring her flowers if she would kiss him.

He knew Olivia Bradford and saw she was no longer the little girl he stole kisses from and who acted so grown up. She was a beautiful woman, who acted like an old lady now.

"What's so funny, sir?" Olivia accused looking hurt and insulted.

"Oh! Nothing, madam." he said and leaned forward on his desk trying to look professional.

"I would like to see Mr. Eames." she told him.

"Then you _will_ see Mr. Eames." he said feeling reckless and happy all at once. He felt like his whole life had lead up to this moment and he was excited to see it come to fruition.

"What?" Olivia asked as Harold stood.

"Tom!" Harold said as he pulled on his suit jacket from the coat rack.

"Yes, sir?" the young clerk popped his head out from the office.

"I'll be taking the day off and seeing Mr. Eames for dinner. Please call my sister and tell her if she wants her allowance for the week, she'll join us and act like a lady." Harold said and tried not to smile at the perplexed look on _Olivia Bradford from America's_ face as she followed him to his car outside the office building.

"We're really going to see Mr. Eames?" she asked in disbelief.

"We certainly are." Harold told her and he opened the passenger side door and extended a hand to help her in.

"I thought Mr. Eames never entertained visitors." she said and kept her hands away from him and her feet rooted to the ground.

"Mr. Eames never entertains anything these days except his own caprice." Harold told her. "But tonight, he will entertain you."

She looked worriedly up and down the street.

"What it is? Have you changed your mind?" he asked.

"Not at all, sir." she told him confidently. "I just..." she looked flustered. "I've never gotten into a car with a strange man other than a cab driver. It's not decent or safe. How do I know you won't make off with me?"

Harold felt his face hurt from smiling so much. His mind instantly going to the idea of _making off_ with Olivia Bradford from America.

"Right you are, madam. Most sensible." he said and looked around the busy street. His neighbor, was luckily enough a local constable's office and two guards were returning to the station from their rounds.

"Good sirs?" he called out to them and they obligingly tipped their hats to the well dressed couple by the fancy car.

"Sir?" one of them said.

"My name is Harold Hays, and this is _Olivia Bradford from America_." he said in a sing song voice that couldn't hide his mirth.

Olivia looked annoyed as he went on.

"I'll be taking her to see C.R. Eames at Blue Rivers and she wanted you to know that if she should be, her words: 'made off with', I'm the scandalous devil who did it." he said almost ready to cry from laughing.

The guards didn't seem amused and neither did Olivia Bradford from America.

"Be off with you then!" The guard said and they walked away.

"There we go." Harold said and gave her a little bow.

Olivia only shook her head and climbed into the car without his assistance.

"That wasn't funny." she told him and she secured her hat and sat primly in the passenger side on his car.

"It was a little funny." Harold said as he started the engine. "I'm not skilled at making jokes-"

"Obviously." she interrupted and he smiled as they drove to Blue Rivers.


	9. Chapter 9

9.

~ '_When had it become so warm_?' Olivia wondered as Harold drove them out of London and past pristine little homes and shops.

"We call them villages here and not towns, we'll pass a lot of them along the way." he said when she made the comment on how lovely the area was.

"Oh." Olivia said and admired the view as she knew he was stealing glances at her.

She wasn't sure why, but she felt beautiful all of the sudden. She was glad she wore the dove gray suit with white piping her father liked for her to wear. Glad she looked more grown up with this Harold Hays person. She wasn't expecting him to look like this at all. When the newspaper had said that Harold was Eames' adopted son and he was older, she expected him to be in his late forties at least. Not a young man who dressed so well and had such a pleasing temperament. Then, there were his eyes.

She didn't like looking at him in the eye. They were too blue, to alluring and she she felt he could see her better with eyes like that. Like he knew things about her even she didn't know. As a result, she tried not to look at him too much.

Still, he was a handsome man and it was a long car ride from London to Blue Rivers.

"I'm given to understand Mr. Eames is your step father." Olivia said after they passed a small village and were again in open country.

Harold smiled and looked over at her. She shifted in her seat and smoothed out her dress.

"You understand correctly." he said lazily.

"So... um... your mother died when you were little?" she asked trying to sound casual.

"I was old enough to remember her. She wasn't my real mother. My father married her and she was my step mother. Then my father went to fight in the great war and never came home. My sister was born a little while after that." he said.

"Oh, I would have thought that... well..." Olivia coughed and felt her heart race.

Whoever this young man was, he wasn't a blood relation. Why did that make her so happy?

"I had a very nice childhood, even after mother passed away. Mr. Eames was hardly the beast the papers make him out to be." he laughed.

"Well, I suspect a lot of that is an invention from his agent." Olivia said rolling her eyes. "These days, you have to sell the author as well as the book. It's always useful if the writer has an interesting back story and appeal."

"Ordinarily I would agree." Harold said lightly. "But I'm afraid Mr. Eames' hermit nature is all too real."

"What will he say when I show up?" Olivia asked. Her heart beating faster as Harold met her eyes and she couldn't seem to stop looking at the blue she found there.

He gave her a comforting smile.

"I'm sure you will enchant him." he said and his large hand reached over for hers and gave it a comforting pat.

Olivia felt her training as a lady rise up and she moved her clasped hands over. Not allowing this strange man to touch her.

Harold's hands were back on the wheel of his car as he tried to regain his composure.

"So, tell me about Olivia Bradford from America." he said clearing his throat.

She wasn't ready for the question and blushed hot.

"Well, I live in New York. I attend Barnard." she said.

"Very nice. I went to school at Yale." he offered with a smile.

"So, is that's why you speak more like an American?" she asked feeling her cheeks heat up.

"So I've been told." he chuckled.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend." she offered.

"You didn't." he said. "Tell me about your family." he said brightly.

"My family?" she asked.

"Yes. Did they make the crossing with you?" he asked.

"Oh, well my father is a very busy man. He runs sevral factories and with the depression on-" she rushed to explain.

"He never noticed you ran away?" Harold concluded.

"I did not run away, sir." Olivia said hotly. "I am twenty years old and an adult. Adults do not run away from home."

She sensed Harold was trying to not to laugh again and hurried to explain herself.

"I simply decided to take... a tour of Europe... before... well before any serious talk of war started." she said in a rush. Happy that she knew a little about the world and hoped it would impress the young man with the fine blue eyes.

Harold did look impressed.

"Very insightful of you. The news of the world has us all a little concerned." he said as the afternoon sun made country air snap to life.

"Does your mother at least know you're here?" he asked.

Olivia looked at her hands and pulled off her gloves. It was getting to hot to wear them anyway.

"My mother passed away when I was six." she explained. "I hardly remember her."

She felt Harold looking at her again. Not in the way of stealing little glances and smiling to himself, but really looked at her as if judging her and not approving.

"What is it?" she asked him.

"Nothing, madam." he said softly and made a turn at a fork in the road. "It's another hour before we reach Blue Rivers. Lets stop and eat."

He pulled into a charming village and Olivia almost expected to see Jane Austen characters spring from their homes. It seemed hardly touched by time as Harold drove carefully passed a shepard herding sheep and a goose boy with his flock.

The car seemed like an abomination in this place as all the villagers looked at them and the children waved. Their faces were dirty as they clambered around the slow moving car.

"I do legal work for some of the farmers here." he explained. "Large farms are buying up all the small, family owned properties here and wanting to clear the way for more building. We've been raising funds to preserve the countryside for decades now. We don't want it to become just another city."

"It's lovely." Olivia said as Harold finally stopped the car at a local restaurant.

"Mr. Hays!" came a boisterous cry from the streets and a meaty looking man waved at them. "Good to see you son!"

Olivia felt oddly left out as a small crowd of people gathered around the car and were greeting Harold as he shook hands and answered quick questions about politics, the law and other news from London.

"And who's this young lady?" came a nosy, gossipy sort of woman as Harold gallantly helped Olivia out of the car and she carefully avoided the mud. Her fine, dove gray suit looked far too well to do next to the dirty but smiling children, and she felt embarrassed.

"My friend, _Jane_, is joining me for a meal before we move on." Harold explained and moved his arm around Olivia's waist.

The villagers were all staring at her and she gave them her best smile. She wasn't sure why he called her Jane, but these people seemed a little too interested in her for comfort.

"Well, you two must be worn out!" the nosy woman said and guided them to the restaurant. "Get away!" she yelled at the flock of children who were staying close to Olivia like a flock of frightened geese. Their little hands reaching out for her nice dress.

"Get away I said!" the woman shouted and the children ran off as Harold pulled his charge into the restaurant.

~ Olivia didn't know much about the area and Harold explained the interesting history of Blue Rivers as they waited their meal to be served.

The were looking over a very nice oil painting of a grand manor house that had obviously been restored and re-framed.

"It's Blue Rivers." he explained. "Painted God only knows how long ago by some former governess. But the facade still looks the same; even after the fire." he said as she breathed out at the sight of such a fine, large house. "This painting used to be in one of the better guest rooms at the inn, but when Eames became famous, they restored it and moved it here for the tourists."

A house with so many rooms and windows that opened in the summer and country air. A house where you could scream with a little sister like you were in a cave and a boy brought you flowers for a kiss.

She blinked and caught him staring at her again.

"Mr. Eames lives there alone?" she asked.

"Afraid so. The country is very boring and my sister and I don't find it as diverting as we once did." he explained. "Eames still writes everyday but stays in the consrvatory." he told her.

She nodded and looked at the impressive river that ran behind the house.

"Big house for one person." she sighed. Trying to make conversation.

"That's what I keep telling him. But he won't hear of leaving. It's where he fell in love with his wife, not to mention his family home." he told her.

"His wife." she whispered.

"Olivia." Harold said at last. "Why don't you tell me why you're really here?"


	10. Chapter 10

10.

~ "First, tell me why you said my name was Jane." she said to him as they stayed close to the painting even though the restaurant was free of patrons and they were alone.

"Because I wanted to protect you." he told her. "Very gossip happy crowd here and it's not their concern."

"Is that the truth?" she asked. "There is nothing wrong with telling people my real name."

Harold didn't look at her for a moment.

"I want to protect you, Olivia." he said softly.

She looked him over, trying to catch those fine blue eyes of his again, but he averted her gaze.

She went to her matching purse and fished out the old pictures.

"This is C.R. Eames." she said and showed him the photograph of the writer and the baby.

"It is." Harold agreed. "I forgot how young he was then."

"This is him with..." she took a deep breath and handed Harold a photograph of her mother and Eames.

"His wife. Pardon me, his _late_ wife." he agreed again.

"Your step mother." Olivia added.

Harold nodded.

She retrieved more papers from her purse and gave them to Harold.

"That's my father's marriage certificate to my mother from September 1911." she said in a shaky voice. "That's a photograph of my mother holding me." she gave him more pictures of Ariadne holding a grumpy looking little girl.

She was crying softly and shaking slightly as she gave him the last evidence of her perplexing mystery.

Harold seemed less concerned with the photographs and marriage license than the fact she was crying. Like a true gentleman, his hand was in his breast pocket and retrieving a cotton handkerchief for her.

"I'm sorry." she whispered as she felt ashamed of her tears. "I thought, maybe she had a twin or something." she sniffed.

"The names are the same." Harold said dryly and looked at her face a long time.

She nodded.

"I don't know what to think, but I know Mr. Eames will have some answers." she sighed as he walked her to the table and carefully looked over her pictures.

"What did your father tell you about your mother?" he asked as he pulled out a chair for her to sit.

Olivia almost laughed.

"I was six when she died and I know I didn't live in America. I know it's crazy, but, I think I lived at that big house." she whispered.

Harold nodded but said nothing.

"I remember mother's funereal and Mr. Eames being there. And then, Daddy came and took me on a big ship to New York and I've lived with him ever since." she said sadly as the lady brought them a simple meal of sandwiches and soup.

"You never spoke to your father about these things?" he asked.

She shook her head and ate politely.

"Never." she said. "Daddy never liked to talk about her except in the early days of their marriage. Before I was born, and when I was still a baby."

He nodded and they ate in silence for a long time.

"Harold?" she asked and he avoided her gaze.

She tried to catch those fine eyes again and he finally gave them to her.

"Harold, did I live at Blue Rivers?" she whispered.

"Yes." he told her gently. "I'm told you were born there."

She felt her heart beat faster.

"Is Ariadne Eames... is she Ariadne Bradford?" she asked hopefully.

"I only knew her as my father's wife, Ariadne _Hays_. I was young when they married and he went to war." Harold explained.

She nodded and tried to make the picture fit. Tried to make it work. Harold was keeping information from her. Waiting for her to ask the right questions.

"Is Mr. Eames my father?" she whispered.

"No." Harold told her.

"Are you certain? I remember calling him papa!" Olivia argued.

"When you were young, before mother died, you _did _call him papa." Harold said soothingly.

Olivia shook her head.

"I don't understand." she whispered.

"Your mother," Harold sighed and looked at her with those eyes that bore into her soul. "was a wonderful lady. I always felt good around her. She made me feel very safe and loved. She was a good mother to me, and to you as well." he said.

Olivia nodded and then shook her head.

"Olivia, Ariadne was married three times. Once to your father, once to my father and then to Mr. Eames." he confessed.

Olivia heard a strange ringing in her ears that drowned out all other noises.

"What?" she asked stupidly as Harold was clasping her hands and looked her over carefully.

"Your father divorced your mother just before war broke out. She married my father and he died during the war." he explained quickly. "Then she married Eames."

"Daddy would never divorce mother!" Olivia snapped and stood. She snatched her hands away from Harold and tried to shoo him away from touching her.

"You're lying!" she cried. "He loved her, he still loves her. He never remarried and I know..." she felt dizzy and her world go askew. The floor was slanted. Why was the floor slanted?

"Harold?" she called out as her world became dim and she felt the floor tilt even more.

"Olivia?" Harold said but it sounded like he was very far away.

"Harold, am I on the ship?" she asked.

She felt very strong arms grab her and lower her to the floor. The last thing she saw, was Harold's eyes looking deeply into her own.

~ "She's had a hard few days." came a nice, congenial voice.

Olivia rolled over in her bed and was puzzled why she didn't see the pink wallpaper that had been in her room since childhood.

"What with the transatlantic crossing, the train ride and then the drive from London to here. Poor creature is worn out. She need to eat better and she's too thin." the older gentleman said to a young man in a fine suit.

Olivia's head hurt too much and she didn't try to sit up.

"What..." she panted and a cool wash cloth was pressed to her face. "What happened?" she asked as she tried to focus.

"You fainted, Olivia." came a calm masculine voice at her bedside.

"No, I didn't." she shook her head and made the pounding in her skull worse. "I... I don't faint."

"Alright, we'll call it a momentary loss of gravity, followed by a nap." he said.

"The floor was slanted." she complained.

"I'll speak to the manager." the voice said cheerfully.

She sensed whoever the voice belonged to, was teasing her and she managed to look up at him.

Her vision was still blurry, but she would recognize those irritating blue eyes anywhere.

"Harold." she said plainly.

"Olivia." he said and gave her a little nod.

"What happened?" she breathed and tried to sit up.

"Lay back down." he ordered gently. "You had a fainting spell and the doctor says you need rest and drink plenty of fluids. You didn't tell me you were fresh off the _Olympic_. You're nearly exhausted."

"I'm fine." she whispered.

"You are not. You're going to stay here for the night and rest. We'll be on our way to Blue Rivers in the morning." he told her.

"No, I want to go now!" she almost shouted and tried to sit up again. She saw to her horror that it was evening outside the window and she was in some bedroom made up just for guests.

"You're at the inn." he told her. "I've rented us rooms here, and we will resume our odyssey in the morning."

She fell back in bed and felt ready to cry.

"No, I can't." she pouted. "I thought this would be a day trip, I didn't bring any clothes!"

She sensed Harold was smiling at her and didn't look at him.

"I've had our hostess go to the shop to fetch you a new night gown, toothbrush and hair comb." he said with a certain cheerfulness to his voice.

"This situation is not remotely funny, sir." she snapped at him. Her headache making her irritable.

"Right you are, madam." he laughed. "The hostess brought you some tea, please drink it with some sugar." he said.

She looked doubtful.

"It will make you feel better." he promised as he poured her a tea cup full.

She sighed and sat up. Not caring if her hair and face looked a fright or that her traveling dress was wrinkled.

"My head hurts." Olivia complained.

"The doctor says you'll feel better after you've rested. The stress of travel and all. Why didn't you tell me you were so tired?" he asked.

"_I'm not tired_!" Olivia pouted.

Harold smiled at her and nodded for her to finish drinking her tea.

There was knock on the door and the hostess showed herself in.

"I brought the night gown for your cousin, Mr. Hays." the young woman said with bright pink cheeks as she looked at Harold. Olivia not failing to see the school girl crush she had on the young man with the fine blue eyes.

"Thank you, Darla." he said and took the package wrapped in brown paper.

"Would you like me to stay and help your cousin change?" she asked. Wanting to be helpful to the handsome man and the woman she clearly hoped was not a romantic interest.

"I'll be fine, thank you." Olivia said and bravely stood up. Her world still slanted and her head still hurting.

"Thank you, Darla." Harold whispered to the girl who looked sad to be leaving.

"I don't like her." Olivia said as soon at the door was closed and they were alone again. She looked over the new tooth brush and hair comb.

"Why?" Harold asked as she held up her night gown. It was the typical granny night gown her father would have approved of. He wanted Olivia to dress proper, even in her sleep.

"I can dress myself." she said as answer.

"I won't have you fainting on me again. It was enough of an ordeal to carry you to the inn." he said and turned around to give her some privacy.

"You carried me?" she said in shock.

"Well you certainly didn't walk, madam." he teased.

She made certain he was properly turned away before unbuttoning her traveling dress and slipping off her dress slip and bra. Harold didn't look, didn't even peek at her as she quickly covered her naked body with the clean, comforting granny night gown. But she oddly enough felt his eyes on her.

"Okay." she said and held her dove gray dress over her chest.

"If you'll put the dress by the door, I'll have Darla clean it for you." he offered.

She was reluctant to have such country people try to clean her nice clothes, but didn't have much of an option as her dress was muddy and wrinkled.

"Fine." she said and handed him her dress.

"Please get in the bed so I won't worry you've fainted again." he said and nodded to the comfortable looking bed.

"I'm fine." she insisted, but did as he asked.

"I'll be across the hall if you need me." he told her lightly. "We'll leave in the morning as soon as your dress is ready."

He closed the door behind her and only belatedly, did Olivia notice the mirror on the wall. A mirror that reflected right where she had changed. Her mind wondering wildly if Harold had really used that mirror to watch her undress while he innocently kept his back turned.


	11. Chapter 11

11.

~ Eames was dreaming of his lost love. Like Arthur, he almost never said that Ariadne was dead. If she were dead, that meant she would never come back to him. But she _did_ come back to him. She visited him in his dreams almost every night.

In his dreams, the conservatory wasn't a disorganized wasteland full of dead plants, broken, battered furniture and dirty dishes the maids were too scared to come and collect. In his dreams, his leg didn't hurt him from his war wounds, and he wasn't thirty pounds overweight.

In his dreams, he was young and free of the scars from war and depression. In his dreams, he wasn't sleeping on a cot with a dirty quilt for cover, and the conservatory wasn't bathed in darkness as it started to rain outside.

"Eames, it's too cold to sleep here." Ariadne whispered as she tired to get him to go to bed in on of the nicer bedrooms the servants kept at the ready for him.

"Come here." Eames said and felt his body become young again as this pretty girl giggled and curled into bed next to him. Her warm, petite body made him feel strong and powerful again as she snuggled close to him.

"We should go to bed. You live in this conservatory all the time, it's not healthy." Ariadne scolded as she spread her legs open and Eames' hand was over her panties and stroking her folds till she let out a soft moan of protest.

"Eames?" she whispered as he felt his own body delight in the feel of her. Her back arching as her clothing melted off her and he was treated to the view of her bare body writhing on his hand. His thumb pressing knowledgeably on the sweet spot to make her breathing speed up and her hips rock faster.

"I love you." he whispered as he was kissing the phantom over and over. Her warm body grinding on his hand as he felt his own body, young and strong spring to life again. His need for her over powering as he felt her passage become wet and slippery with each stroke.

"Eames," she whispered as he ignored her and was quick to skillfully mount her and bring her small body up to straddle his lap. His lips attacking her breasts.

"What is it, darling?" he whispered as he relished his meal of her nipples and decided he would have the rest of her body for desert.

"My daughter is coming home." she whispered.

"Yes, she phoned this afternoon to say she would be home for dinner. Harold threatened her." Eames said as he watched his lover ride his manhood with all the oversexed joy she only rarely showed in real life.

"Not Felicity." she said darkly and stopped her wild movements on him.

Eames didn't comprehend what she had said right away and the couple stared at each other mutely.

His dream started shifting and fading from light and warm, to dark and cold. His lost love changing as her body became gaunt and almost decayed looking.

"Ariadne?" he whispered in fear as she stared at him with her cold, dead eyes.

"Olivia is coming home Eames." the dead thing whispered. "She's coming home to find out about all the lies we've told. She's coming here, and Arthur won't be far behind."

"Wait, Ariadne, don't go!" Eames shouted as she was decaying before his eyes.

"There's something worse coming, Eames. Something you won't live to see, but will haunt our children and grandchildren. Something that will change the world, Eames" she whispered.

"Ariadne."

"It's coming... it's bad... the things that are coming..." Ariadne whispered. "The modern world is awake. The modern world is a wolf that is lose in the forest, Eames. It will eat our babies alive..."

"Ariadne, I don't understand!" he cried as her body turned cold and he felt her flesh melt away.

"Protect my children, Eames." she whispered. "Protect my children from this war."

~ The Lewis twins threw the most lavish parties that celebrated nothing except their wealth and good looks. Felicity had to admire them for that. Dovie and Tom Lewis were only nineteen and already rich, handsome and incredibly popular and arrogant.

They were what she longed to be. Free, confident and happy.

The Lewis twins hadn't seen their wayward parents in years. They were looked after in their lavish home by servants and had free range over their destiny. This made their large estate home a mecca for the youth of London to flock to. No party was too grand, no amount of champagne was enough and they never understood the meaning of moderation.

Felicity envied both their social status and their arrogance. Dovie Lewis was as stupid as they came, but she had such a way with people that Felicity could never possess. She had fun with her life and seemed to enjoy being the center of attention.

Felicity was people watching, her favorite hobby at parties. So many stories to gather here. So much was said when nothing was said at all.

"That's the most serious face I've ever seen." came a voice by her side.

Felicity felt a spell break and looked to her right to find she wasn't alone in the little balcony she had fled to when the part got too wild and her so called friends ignored her.

"I suppose I'm thinking serious things." she told the young man sharply as she turned back to her people watching.

She liked to watch the party goers after they became too drunk. She could always tell those who were having fun from those who were just trying to fit in.

"Pretty girls shouldn't be so serious." the young man with jet black hair said.

"Why is that? It will give them wrinkles and no man will want them?" she asked lightly as she watched Dovie and another youth talk. Pretty Dovie's face was contorted in a frown and Felicity felt a wave of happiness at that.

"I hardly think you'll have to worry about that for a long time. But you looked lonely up here alone." he said and handed her a glass of champagne.

Felicity took it, but didn't drink. She didn't like the taste of spirits.

"I'm never alone." she told the invader lightly and went back to watching Dovie fight with her boyfriend.

"I sensed that. You're Felicity Eames." he said. "My name is Julian Hunt."

She looked at him then. Her eyes finally giving him their attention. He was strikingly handsome. Handsome in a way men normally weren't and it made her really look at him. His hair was an unkempt, yet stylish mess of dark locks in desperate need of a trim. His eyes were blue, but not the same as her beloved brothers. They were almost an ice blue that could be cruel and flashed with warning. Like a predator who always shows you it's teeth before in goes in for the kill.

"Of the Boston Hunts? What are you doing here in London?" she asked. Noticing for the first time he spoke with an American accent.

"My brother and I are on vacation." he said with a careless air. "Mother and father were growing tiresome, so we left them at home."

"I see." Felicity said and turned back to the party. Her attention now focused on a couple who were kissing on the dance floor. The young man's hand itching to touch his partner's breast and Felicity felt sure she would let him.

'_Such drama and passion all in one room. Passion in anger, passion in lust, passion in-_'

"So, aren't you impressed I knew who you were?" Julian asked sitting next to her and interrupting her thoughts.

"A lot of people know who I am." Felicity scolded and shifted away from him.

"Oh, I'm sure. I'm a fan of Mr. Eames' work. It's refreshing to read them. I especially liked the ones about the witch and how she seduces the knight. That's what every man needs, a pretty girl who isn't afraid of what she wants." Julian said casually lighting a cigarette and offering her a drag.

"Is that how girls are in America?" Felicity asked as she watched the dancing couple. The boy too shy to touch the breast he wanted so much.

"Not hardly." Julian laughed.

"So, you came up here, to the _obviously_ lonely and forlorn daughter of Mr. C.R. Eames in the hope that she could fulfill some kind of sexual need? Some sort of fantasy about a woman who will bed you and who will make you feel less like the hunter? You're looking for a brief but memorable encounter with a member of the literary world that you can brag about at parties twenty years from now when you're old, bald and fat? When all your good looks have faded, your wife no longer wants you and your friends think you're a joke? You'll have some kind of feather in your cap by bedding the daughter of the great C. R. Eames?" she asked and looked him right in his ice blue eyes.

Julian blinked and a little smile crept on his face.

"Not exactly like that, Miss Eames." he said with a laugh. He let out another nervous, forced laugh. "I saw you up here, I asked our hostess why such a beautiful creature was sitting alone in the balcony when any man here would give his front teeth to hold you on that dance floor tonight. Our hostess said you were the daughter of Mr. Eames and you're always like this."

"Dovie said that?" Felicity said and blinked. She had always liked Dovie. They were so different, but she wanted to be friends with Dovie and be like her sometimes.

"Dovie's not a thinker. She was with her friends and God forbid girls should be nice in front of their friends when they talk about a girl who's obviously superior to them." Julian said.

Felicity looked back at him scornfully.

"I'm not always like this. Those people, their different from me." she said and turned away from him. Painfully aware now that her blood red party dress was nearly backless. It had been in impulse purchase especially for this party and draped over her body in a way that made her feel very attractive. She knew it was a good dress and it made her as powerful as a Greek goddess.

_Athena, walking into a room and pulling the atmosphere out of it as all the men stared on all the girls gasped._

"I know you're different." Julian said.

"I'm not looking for their approval or friendship." she spat as she watched Dovie with a new scorn.

"I didn't mean to upset you." he said softly.

"You didn't."

She felt he was smiling at her.

"I would like for you to dance with me a little." he said.

"What?" she asked

"I came here to ask you to dance with me. Think of how mad it will make all those lemmings, all those snobs and social climbers if they saw us having the time of our lives and not caring about them. You in in that dress, me dancing with you... in that dress. We could laugh loudly and pretend we own this party, Miss. Eames. What do you say?"

~ It was easy; so much easier than Felicity thought it would be. Julian was sublime dancer who gracefully led her down the stairs, not afraid to put his hand on her bare back and who directed her in to a spin once on the dance floor that made her blood red dress twirl out. He neatly caught her and their bodies moved together as if their were born to do this.

Julian's body moved like water as he held her close, their face pressing cheek to cheek they way they did in the movies. All to the envy of the crowd among them.

**Ian Sommerholder as Julian Hunt**


	12. Chapter 12

12.

~ "I doubt I've had this much fun in my life." Felicity said as she tried to smoke the cigarette Julian had given her.

She choked and coughed as her lungs rejected it and he laughed.

They had fled the party around midnight when a fight broke out among the drunkest of the guests and Dovie started to cry. Julian had taken her on a long walk to get some air before the two of them parted for the evening.

"I take it you don't get out much." he said as she decided she didn't like smoking after all. What a stupid habit this was! She didn't look glamorous at all almost choking to death in front of this handsome stranger.

"Not especially. Papa sends me away when I become a bother, and then my loving older brother Harold just had his clerk ring me up today to say I had to be home for dinner or my pocket money would be severed." she said scornfully.

"So you defied his orders and came to Dovie's party instead. What a waste of a rebellion. You should have saved it for a real party." Julian laughed.

"Very true." she agreed. "But it was splendid to see the looks on their faces." she said with a pleased smile.

"Yes, they did hate us." Julian agreed happily.

"We need to do that again." Felicity said happily. "Just show up like we're lord and lady of all creation."

"You keep dressing like that and I'll follow you to hell." Julian said as she caught him looking at her exposed back and more.

"You're a very forward person Mr. Hunt. If you don't mind my saying." she said and didn't stop him from looking at her.

"I don't mind, only because it's true. I don't believe in wasting time." he said easily as they walked.

"You don't think it's too aggressive?" she asked innocently.

"Yes, but we're only young once. Do you think it's too aggressive to say I like you? That I want to see more of you and not just in dance halls and at parties?" he said.

Felicity caught her breath and looked at him. Her heart racing.

"I... I'm seventeen." she said.

"Old enough." Julian said happily.

"It's just-" she stammered.

"I'm not asking you to marry me, Felicity." he laughed and she felt embarrassed. "I just want to see more of you."

"I don't think that's wise." she told him.

"Why not?"

"Tonight was perfect." she said sadly. "If we see each other outside of tonight, in the real world, it won't be as magical. It won't be a wonderful or as good. We'll be disappointed. If we leave each other like this, then tonight will be perfect forever."

He looked at her with those hunter eyes of his.

"I say to hell with that." he whispered before kissing her.

~ Olivia opened her eyes to the sound of a roster crowing and sat up. She wasn't used to the sudden rush of country air, smells and sounds. She opened her window to the dawn and smelled mud, grass and bread baking. The rustic, timeless village was slowly waking up and coming to life.

"Miss?" came a knock on her door and the young hostess, whom she despised so much, let herself in without invitation.

"I've cleaned your dress, and mended a small tear." she said and promptly hung Olivia's traveling clothes up. "I think Mr. Hays is downstairs when you're ready."

"Already?" Olivia asked. "It's barely dawn."

"Early to bed and rise." the young hostess said swiftly. "I admire that about the man."

She gave Olivia a good looking over and swiftly left her to dress.

Olivia wasn't used to feeling competitive. She had never spent time with a man whom another girl had affections for. Even though she hardly knew Harold, hardly dared to question if she liked him, she didn't want that girl to like him. Didn't want that girl to think she could have him. No, Harold didn't belong to Olivia or that other girl, but she would make certain that everyone knew that Olivia Bradford could have him, if she wanted him.

She combed and pinned her hair back in a more grown up fashion. Left off her matching grey jacket because the weather was too hot and made sure her face looked clean and fresh for another day of travel.

She found Harold down in the dinning room reading the paper alone at the table.

"I'm sorry if I kept you. I didn't realize you got up so early." she said and took a seat.

"I've always been an early riser." he said dryly.

"Will we be going to Blue Rivers now?" she asked.

"Yes." he said coldly.

She felt odd inside. Was he mad at her? Did she say or do something to offend him? She had been sick, that was true, but that was hardly her fault. He had said so himself.

"Have I done something wrong?" she asked.

He folded his paper in half and then in half again.

"Not at all, forgive me." he said. "I've just phone Blue Rivers and spoke to the butler there. My wayward sister was supposed to beat us there for dinner last night, but she never showed up. I called her friend in London and she had not stayed there either."

"Oh, Harold." Olivia breathed.

"Not to worry." he said. "I'm certain she's stayed with another friend of hers. She's very popular."

"Harold, we should go back to London and find out if she's alright." Olivia said.

"No, you need to meet Mr. Eames." Harold said.

"Mr. Eames isn't going anywhere. Your sister could be hurt." Olivia said.

"My sister is no doubt attempting to teach me a lesson. She's done this kind of thing before." he said.

"What if it's serious?" Olivia questioned.

"I'll have you meet Mr. Eames, then if my sister still hasn't returned home, we'll have cause to worry and then we can go back to London." he said.

~ Olivia didn't feel right about going onward to Blue Rivers when Harold's sister was missing. Such a ghastly thing never happened in her world. Her father had dinner with her every evening and knew where she was sleeping ever night.

She suddenly felt her blood hurt from missing him. She had betrayed him. No doubt he was at home right now, worried sick about her and comforted only by post cards. When she returned home, he would be angry with her. He would want to lock her up in the house until she was thirty.

Her father had given her everything in life except freedom. She would never have been allowed to stay over a a friends house or go out to parties and now she was on a grand adventure to find out about her mother's mysterious past.

She joined Harold back in the car again, and they drove off to Blue Rivers.

~ Felicity woke up alone in Julian Hunt's bed. Her blood red party dress lay on the dressing chair and she was wearing only his dress shirt from last night.

How close she had been to giving herself to this stranger last night. Of not breaking the magic spell that had been cast between them. She was kissing him and their bodied blended so well together. Her skin turning hot as she thought she might die if he stopped touching her. His lips branding her skin as they groped at each other on the sofa of his hotel room.

At the last moment, Julian pulled away from her, his hand running over the blood red dress as she wanted him to kiss her again.

He looked at her in that superior way of his, and told her she could sleep in his bed that night and he would sleep on the couch.

She had felt a little heart broken at the rejection. She was still a virgin, but a lot of girls were doing it now. It wasn't as shocking as it was before. When no girl ever had sex out of the marriage bed. But she had wanted it to happen and he had said no.

"I want to see you after the spell is broken." he said with an impish little smile. "We can have breakfast together and you can sit with me looking tired and with morning hair."

She had laughed at the idea, and felt slightly better.

That night, she waited for him to come to her. Waited for him to sneak into his own room, his own bed, and be with her. Join their bodies together and whisper true love things.

But he never came to her, and she fell asleep from all the waiting.

~ He had room service bring them breakfast as she emerged sheepishly from his room in his dress shirt.

"My don't we look fetching." he laughed as she realized she didn't look as appealing as before. He, on the other hand looked just as dashing as always. He wasn't in a tuxedo, that was true, but his good looks were natural enough to make even a normal suit look impressive.

"You're bed is very comfortable." she said as she sat next to him and pulled apart a muffin to eat.

"That it is. What would you like to do today, Miss Eames? I'm at you're command." he teased.

"My command? How thrilling." she said and yawned.

"We could go to museums or a show perhaps." he offered.

"I really need to go home. Harold is no doubt worried sick and as much as I hate Papa right now, I love my brother." she said after she swallowed her bread.

Julian looked a little disappointed.

"I see. Well, then you need to go home." he whispered and ran his hand over her own.

She didn't want it to end. Didn't want to break the spell that had held through the night and into the next morning. She wanted the magic to hold just a little longer.

"Come with me." she said brightly. "To Blue Rivers."

"What?" he laughed.

"I want you to come to Blue Rivers and meet my father and brother." she said.

"Felicity, _we_ just met." he said. "I don't think that's wise."

"Well, I do. I'm not asking you to marry me, Julian." she said just as easily as he had said those words last night. "Just, I'm not ready to say goodbye to you."

"I would like to meet Mr. Eames. Something to brag to my friends about when I'm old and fat." he said mildly.

"Don't forget bald." she added and grinned.

"Yes, bald. We mustn't forget bald." he smiled. "Why must I be old, fat and bald?" he asked.

"A lot of women like bald men." she laughed. "I don't know any off hand, but I'm sure there will be some."

"Yes, dear, but must I be all three?" he asked and poured her coffee.

"Yes, you must." she grinned. "And you must come home with me."

He looked at her, and she caught a brief hint of kindness in his eyes.

"If I must." he agreed.

"Good." she whispered and kissed him.


	13. Chapter 13

13.

~ Olivia caught her breath at the sight of Blue Rivers. In New York, there were buildings as large and grand as this, but they were public libraries and other building meant to house vast groups of people for art shows and other events. Such a home for one man and a few servants was ghastly.

"Let's walk around a bit. Stretch our legs" Harold suggested as he helped her out of the car. "I can show you the gardens and then we can have lunch. I know Eames very well and he'll be writing until dinner time."

"Harold, I've been here before." she whispered and looked out at the front drive. A place she remembered well. She remembered playing outside in the warm sunshine, a rose garden, a fountain they were not allowed to go near.

Mother. Mother was here to.

"Let's go for a walk." Harold said. "We haven't talked about this since you fainted."

"I'm not sure I want to." Olivia sighed as she walked arm and arm with in to the back of the splendid rose gardens. "I can't believe daddy would divorce mother and leave me. It's not like him."

"I understand that. But he was gone for a long time, and I think she met my father, and they fell in love." Harold explained.

"Well, my father still loves her. He keeps pictures of her everywhere." she explained. "Why did he leave in the first place?"

"I'm not sure." he said.

"Then your father died and she married Eames?" Olivia asked.

"Yes."

"Then she died and daddy came and took me to America." Olivia concluded.

"Yes."

"Your sister..." she sighed.

"Felicity."

"She's my sister to. She's our half sister."

Harold took a long time to answer.

"Yes, she's my father, Fredrick Hays real daughter." he said at last. "Mr. Eames adopted us both and she calls him papa."

"Your father never lived long enough to see his child born. How tragic." Olivia sighed.

"Yes." Harold said coldly.

"It's all so scandalous. No wonder daddy kept it all from me. He made me think that he was her only husband. I never knew he divorced her and she remarried two more times." she mused as she looked over a rose garden that was growing wildly.

"Your mother was a wonderful lady. I'm sure your father wanted you to think of her that way. Wanted to keep her memory untarnished." he offered.

"Untarnished?" she laughed. "My father abandoned my mother, abandoned me. Then divorced her. It's him that's tarnished!" Olivia almost shouted. "How could he do that?"

"Olivia, we can't judge, we don't know." Harold said.

"Then to take me from my home to a country I've never been to! To take me from my sister and the man I always thought was my father, away from you?" she croaked out at that last part and

Harold seized her hand.

"Are you mad that I told you the truth? Would you have preferred a lie?" he asked.

"No." she sighed. "No, but I don't want to believe the truth."

"Mr. Eames will have more answers." Harold said. "We can't know what was happening when we were so young."

"When can we see him? Or is he too reclusive to see us today?" Olivia asked as Harold looked worriedly in the distance.

"We can see him now if you like." he sighed and nodded.

Olivia turned as saw a man standing in front of a large conservatory. It's glassed walls in need of a good cleaning from the inside as the plants outside were wildly neglected.

The older man was leaning on a cane with a moth eaten sweater hanging off him. His graying hair disheveled and his beard grown out to the point he looked like a mad man and not master of a large house or a writer of famous novels.

She felt fear prickle her skin as Harold took her hand.

"It's rare he ever goes outside, perhaps he's in a good mood." he offered. "Lets go."

~ Eames had spotted his daughter and Harold walking in the back garden. Felicity's face looked upset as Harold stood closer to his sister than Eames thought appropriate.

He watched them from his spider's nest of the conservatory. Peering out past dirty windows as the pair talked and Felicity looked ready to cry.

His daughter never cried. She was too brave, too bold to have any emotion other than anger or happiness. On closer inspection, she wasn't dressed her normal way either. Perhaps she had borrowed clothes from a friend, or Harold had threatened her to the point of dressing like a lady, because she was in a pleasing dove gray dress that was fashionable and lovely. A white blouse and pearls complimented the look and Felicity could indeed pass as a lady now and not a wild heathen of woman that had escaped from the forest.

He emerged from his conservatory to watch them better and to let them know he could see them. By Harold's body language, he could tell there was something between them. Something more than just just brotherly love. He had never seen Harold act like that with his own sister, even if they were not truly blood related, Harold _believed_ Felicity was his half sister and he shouldn't be so close to her. Should hold her hand like that as they walked to him.

At first, Eames envisioned Ariadne and Arthur. That was exactly what the pair of them looked like. Hand in hand, each of them smartly dressed. They looked like they belonged together. Harold in his full on suit, looking dapper and confident, she lovely and delicate at his side.

A bitter taste rose in Eames throat at the idea or Ariadne and Arthur reborn in his step son and daughter. Then he blinked and realized it wasn't Felicity at all. Another girl, so much like her in looks that he couldn't understand how such a thing had happened.

"Eames." Harold was saying as the writer looked at the girl and saw Ariadne's nose, her eyes, and her slight body.

"This is-"

"Olivia." Eames interrupted. "I'd know you anywhere."

~ "I'm afraid I didn't expect you today." Eames said as he welcomed her and Harold into the library. "Didn't Arthur come with you?"

Olivia gaped at him. She was expecting the mysterious C.R. Eames to be something of a monster in personality. With his wild out of control hair, his beard, scar and cane, she didn't think he would invite her inside the fine home for lunch.

"Um... no. I came alone to England." she said as Eames offered them both a seat.

"He let you? Arthur's become very progressive." Eames laughed as he rang for the butler.

Her shuffled around them like a fussy old lady with his cane and limp. Organizing papers and wanting the library to look neat.

"Forgive the mess, but Harold sets up his office here and my work load tends to spill out." the writer explained.

"It's quite alright, sir." Olivia told him and looked to Harold for help. Now what she was here, finally here with the man who could answer all her questions, what was there to say? She couldn't think of a single question.

"You know, I wrote to Arthur many times to get you to come and visit. I never agreed that it was right of him to take you. If the law had been on my side, I would have kept you. But the law said you were his child, and that you had to go with him." Eames said in a hushed tone as his eyes, full of sincere regent met hers.

"I understand that." Olivia said but didn't mean it. Nothing made sense anymore.

"I know you must have a lot of questions for me. I'll try to answer them." he offered as Olivia felt uncomfortable and wanted to leave. Wanted to say thank you and go back to America and forget all she had learned already. Wanted to go back to the ignorance of not knowing her parents were anything but a loving couple who were separated only by death.

"My father divorced mother." Olivia said. "Why?"

Eames nodded and looked sadly at his hands.

"He was a survivor of _The Empress of Ireland_ sinking in '14." Eames said.

"What?"

"It's not a very well know disaster, it was a few years after Titanic, but it took almost as many lives." Eames explained. "Your father was in America on a business trip. He was on his way home to your mother and you when the disaster happened. We believed he had died because he didn't contact us and his name didn't appear on the survivor roster."

Olivia was shaking her head.

"Daddy never said anything about that to me." Olivia stammered and Harold looked confused to.

"I don't expected him to." Eames sighed. "He was in some kind of shock from the sinking and was sick for a long time. By the time he came out of it, we had him declared dead and your mother had met Harold's father. Arthur had his man, Mr. Cobb draw up divorce papers and tricked her into sighing them, thinking it was a support payment in his will for you and her to live on. He divorced her because he was ill and because he knew that she had fallen in love again. He wanted her happy."

Olivia rejected all of this.

"Daddy wouldn't have left me behind. He wouldn't have allowed his wife to marry another man. You don't understand, he keeps photographs of her all over our home in New York. He loves her." she told him.

Eames looked angry for a moment. As though jealous of the love another man had for a girl long dead and gone.

"So, after her... her _second_ husband died in the war," Olivia said scathingly. "You married her."

"I did. I wanted to adopt you, we still believed Arthur was dead, but his lawyer wouldn't allow it. Then, when your mother died in '19, I find Arthur in this very library, waiting to take you away from me." he explained.

Olivia shook her head. It was outrageous. None of this made any sense.

"Felicity?" Olivia asked. "She's my half sister, and she stayed behind? I have a half sister I haven't seen in almost fifteen years? A sister no one told me anything about?"

She felt ready to cry. She didn't want this to be her home or her family. It was a family ripe with lies and dark secrets that Eames was neglecting to tell. It could not be a simple as her beautiful mother being the victim of tragedy and death. There were bitter feelings buried here in Blue Rivers. Bitter fruit that had grown ripe after so many years of neglect.


	14. Chapter 14

14.

~ "Are you mad at me for bringing you here?" Harold asked as Olivia explored the library. He fingers playing lightly over each book and envied Harold for a childhood with so much reading material.

Eames had ventured downstairs to inform the cook to prepare a good dinner for his new guest. The old man seeming happy at the idea of her staying even though Olivia had protested earnestly that she should leave.

"No." Olivia sighed as she finally sat down next to him. His arm draping near her shoulders, but not truly touching her. "I knew the truth might be upsetting. I wasn't sure what the truth was, but I wasn't prepared for this."

"We all have our secrets, Olivia." Harold told her. "Our lives are not perfect. I know it's scandalous that mother was divorced and married so many times."

"I still can't believe daddy never said a word about this to me." Olivia sighed. "My whole life, he talked about mother like she was the great love of his life, how could he divorce the great love of his life? How could he leave me here without him? Or tell me I had a sister? I can remember a little girl, but I thought... I don't know, she was an imaginary friend."

"Tell me what you do remember." Harold whispered.

"Shouting in the halls. The roses. I remember a little girl trying to catch up with me. I remember Mr. Eames and his typewriter. I remember a boy who was always trying to kiss me." she sighed and looked up at him.

Harold looked embarrassed.

"I don't remember that last bit." he said and refused to look at her.

Olivia was about to say something else when a shout came down the hall.

"Harry! I'm home!" a woman called.

He stood up and peered out the door. Olivia felt nervous at the new person she was about to meet.

"Felicity is home." he said.

Olivia nodded as he took her hand.

"My sister." she whispered. "Well, I'm glad she's alright."

"Are you ready to meet her?" he whispered as Felicity's voice carried across the entry hall as she talked to a servant.

"I think so." Olivia whispered back. "Dose she, does she know about me?"

"She was only two when you left. We never told her. It would have lead to too many questions." he said.

"Harold!" she hissed in disbelief.

"Harry!" came Felicity's call from the foyer. "Come out! I've someone I want you to meet!"

"Perfect!" Harold sighed.

"What do we tell her?" Olivia hissed again pulling on his hand to keep him close to her.

"We don't have to tell her anything right away. I can't believe she brought a guest here. Eames won't like that at all." he mused.

"Harold!" Olivia cried softly.

"Harry!" called Felicity.

"Come on. It'll fine." he said and took her hand.

~ Olivia tried to brace herself to meet her long lost sister. She expected a gangly, awkward teenager. Someone who would look up to her and who would want to emulate her. The tall willow creature in the hall was like a swan turned human. She could scarcely be real. The gentleman by her side was complimentary to her regal, statuesque beauty and Olivia felt plain and ordinary next to their fashionable trendy clothing and abnormal good looks.

"Felicity, you've finally decided to come back. Only a day late." Harold teased and gave his sister a kiss on the cheek.

Olivia hung back as her younger sister, who looked more grown up than she did, introduced Harold to the oddly alluring gentleman by her side.

"Harry, this is Julian. I met him at Dovie's party last night and he's a fan of Daddy's." Felicity said.

"Mr. Eames has a lot of fans and we don't invite them to dinner." Harold scolded.

"I tried to talk her out of it." Julian said brightly as he looked over Olivia and finally turned to Harold again.

"It's no matter now, I'm Felicity's brother, Harold Hays, and this is Olivia Bradford Hays." he said before catching himself.

Olivia wasn't sure she heard right. It had to have been her mind playing tricks on her. Did he just introduce her as Olivia Bradford _Hays_?

Harold seemed to have realized what he said as his eyes grew wide and the silence crept over the four of them. He refused to look at her, and she felt her face flush with embarrassment. Felicity was looking at her curiously and Julian looked confused.

"I mean..." Harold backpedaled.

"Well, that was a very interesting Freudian Slip, Harry." Felicity said with a cat like smirk.

She turned to Olivia and placed her long, graceful arm around her. Olivia noticing her little sister was taller than she was.

"Well, since were to be sisters someday soon, apparently, let me give you a tour of Blue Rivers." Felicity said as Olivia looked to Harold for help.

Harold looked dumbfounded and lost. He stood their stupidly as Felicity seemed to take control of the situation.

"Have you met papa yet? I know he looks like a brute, but he's a kitten at heart." the swan girl said as she pulled Olivia's hand.

"I'm sorry." Harold whispered as Felicity pulled her upstairs.

"I must show you my room and we can set you up in a room of your own. You can sneak in with Harry after you go to bed, naturally, but we must attempt to be proper for the servant's sake." Felicity was saying as the two girls climbed the stairs.

~ Eames balled up a message he had tried for the hundredth time to write. He had to telegraph Arthur that Olivia was safe and at Blue Rivers. Her knew enough about Ariadne's offspring to know that one of her daughters, no matter how well behaved and charming she may seem, had no doubt run away from home and the man didn't deserve the heart ache of wondering where his precious daughter had gone.

He tried once more to pen a response that would not have his old rival coming to England on the fastest ship available.

**Arthur.**

**Olivia is safe at Blue Rivers.**

**She asked a lot of questions about Ariadne.**

Eames threw his pen down. He couldn't say that. He was a parent to and he no more wanted his secrets out than Arthur did. Felicity didn't know that she was conceived out of wedlock. Still believing that Fredrick Hays was her real father. Society still not willing to accept an illegitimate child, no matter how much the world had changed since the war ended.

If Arthur knew Olivia was here, he would pull her back kicking and screaming.

Eames sensed there was something between her and Harold, and he didn't want Arthur to try and come between them, which he surely would.

So, he balled up his last attempt to communicate with the other man, and threw it away. Avoiding Ariadne's portrait as he tried to type.

He could still feel his lost love's eyes on him as he stared at the blank page.

"What would you have me do?" he asked the painting. "She's a grown woman now, she can decide for herself when to go home."

He felt Ariadne still staring, still judging.

"I'll telegraph Arthur in a week. That will give her plenty of time. Just not now." he grumbled and left his typewriter.

~ "Sorry Fel left you like that." Harold sighed as he and Julian sat in the library. Harold pouring drinks in the always honored male bonding of drinking.

"Women." Julian laughed as he sat on the leather sofa.

"So, you've only know my sister for one day?" Harold asked skeptically.

"Less than one day technically." Julian told him.

"Right, and you know she's only seventeen?" Harold asked. "She's only seventeen, very smart, but very foolish about the world. It's easy to take advantage of a girl like that. Especially one who is well off financially. But I'll tell you now, if her father disapproves of you, and he will, she won't gain a cent of his money. So, don't waste our time or break her heart." Harold said in a warning tone.

Julian nodded.

"You're sister and I are friends. Good friends certainly, but I have a girl who my parents want me to marry back in Boston. I have not, nor do I plan on deflowering your sister. She's very interesting and I like being around people like her." Julian said with a long sigh as he rested comfortably on the sofa.

"I'm sorry if I offended you." Harold said. "But it's my job as her brother."

"I understand completely. If I had a sister or a daughter, I wouldn't want her dating a gent like me either." Julian smiled.

"Well, I trust you will remain in your own room tonight if you're not going to drive back to London?" Harold asked.

"You can even lock me in." Julian laughed. "So, that girl, Olivia, is she your wife or cousin?"

Harold looked uncomfortable.

"I didn't mean to say that." he said.

"You mean, give her your last name in front of your sister and a total stranger?" Julian asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes." Harold said and sat across from his sister's new friend.

"Felicity has never brought a guest here before. She must like you. Are you sleeping with my sister?" he asked.

"No." Julian said easily and looked totally at ease. "I told you, we're friends."

"Does she know you're just friends. Or is she upstairs right now planning your wedding?" Harold asked.

"I think it's your wedding she's planing just now, Harry." Julian smirked.

Harold stood to refill his glass as Julian started to whistle 'the wedding march'.


	15. Chapter 15

15.

~ "My brother has never brought home a girl before." Felicity said as she showed Olivia very flashy evening dresses with daringly low cut bodices and skirts that rode up too high.

"I can't wear that to dinner." Olivia laughed.

"Why not? You're almost the same size as me, I don't mind sharing my clothes." she said.

"What I have on is fine." Olivia said meekly smoothing out the wrinkles in her dove gray traveling dress.

"No, it's not." Felicity said. "You must dress up for dinner. That's how things used to be at Blue Rivers. Or, so I'm told."

"What did it used to be like here?" Olivia asked as she sat on her sister's bed and looked around the bedroom. This world could have been hers. A beautiful flowery bedroom with pink roses decorating everything and angel portraits on the wall. She felt like it was made just for her.

"Much more traditional." Felicity sighed as she picked out a spangled green dress and showed it to her.

"No." Olivia laughed.

"I think I have something Harry bought for me in London. I believe I told him I would wear it to dance on his grave." Felicity said and held up a modest evening dress in gold.

"That's nice." Olivia nodded and didn't mention how she disapproved of the dress being sleeveless or the skirt hitting right at the knee.

"What do you think of Julian?" Felicity asked as she stripped down to her under things and started to pin her short, bobbed off hair back with expert style.

"He's very handsome." Olivia said softly as she watched her enigma of a half sister.

Where had these amazing traits come from? This wonderful exuberance of self confidence and lust for life? This boldness that defied all reason. Felicity was like a character in a book and not a real person at all. Olivia could never be related to this girl. Was this what mother was really like when she was Felicity's age? Was mother more like her, or more like the strange beauty in front of her?

"So, how did you and Harry met?" Felicity asked.

"Oh, at his office." Olivia said.

"No doubt over something deadly dull." her sister grumbled.

"Um..." Olivia stammered.

"Well, I think it's splendid he want's to get married. He's just the type to be a good husband. Not all men should get married, just like not all women should be wives, but I think has always been searching for a wife." Felicity said as she pulled out stockings from her drawer.

Olivia watched her as the swan girl easily dressed herself and pulled on stockings. Felicity seemed perfectly comfortable with her body when Olivia had always been scared to change in front of other girls. She had always been shy and insecure about her body.

Olivia was quick to follow Felicity's example and change into the heavy, beaded gold dress. A dress her father never would have allowed her to wear because it would attract too much attention. It fit perfectly as Felicity started to pin back her hair without asking.

"You'll of course you'll want to have the wedding at the chapel in the village, Harry is very traditional." Felicity said carelessly as she pinned Olivia's long hair back and even added a decorative headband.

"Harold made a mistake, he didn't mean what he said." Olivia tried to explain as the swan girl looked in her closet for a pair of shoes for her.

"He meant it, just on a more subconscious level." Felicity said smartly. "On a less subconscious level, I've decided that I'm in love with Julian Hunt."

Olivia started at Felicity open mouthed.

"Pardon?" she asked.

"You think he's handsome, right?" Felicity asked hopefully.

"Well of course I do, but-"

"We met at a party last night and it was... _magical_. We danced in front of everyone like we were touched by faeries. We went back to his hotel room and he slept on the couch. If he had joined me in his bed, I would have let him. Then, when I woke up, the magic was still there between us. It was still lingering in the air even though we had both turned back into pumpkins; so to speak." Felicity explained very fast.

"Felicity." Olivia breathed.

"How long did you know Harry before you were together?" the swan girl asked.

"Felicity."

"Please, don't tell me it's going to be a white wedding thing." she laughed.

"Felicity."

"_Felicity Catherine Eames!_" came a cry from the hall.

Olivia jumped up in horror. The moment had come, her father was here and he was going to see her in this sleeveless dress that barely hit the knee and drag her back to New York and she would never get to know her sister or Harold. Never know more about her mother again.

"Who was that?" she asked, her hand over her heart.

"Maura." Felicity sighed and slunk on the bed. "She's no doubt wondering where I've been. It's best not to upset her, she's little but she can be a terror. Papa gives her run of the whole house and she's raised me since before mother died."

To Olivia's surprise, a short but stout maid barged into the room. She looked to be around forty years old and with too much fat on her face and body to make her attractive. She was dressed in the hateful black dress of a proper house keeper, complete with button down collar and sleeves that reached her wrists even though the heat was in the air.

"Mistress." the stout little woman breathed. "What are you playing at? Running away from home like this all the time and driving fear strait into my heart? You nearly killed me when you flew away the other night, then to have you come home and with a dinner guest no less! Your father will send the man strait off if Harold doesn't beat him to it. You know how Mr. Eames feels about company."

"Maura, this is Olivia Bradford. From the sound of her, she's from America or some silly place like that, and she's bewitched my brother to the point he wants to call her _Mrs. Hays_." Felicity said as she posed on her bed like she was ready for a photo shoot for a romance novel.

The short, stout woman turned on her with such a start, that Olivia had to slowly back away.

"Oh, Miss." Maura whispered and took Olivia's hand.

"Hello?" Olivia said weakly at the look of utter adulation in Maura's eyes.

"Oh, Miss." Maura said again. "If your mother could see you now. Look at you, all grown up and looking so much like a lady. So much like your mother. Is Lord Bradford here as well?"

"Lord Bradford?" Felicity asked sitting up and scowling at the housekeeper.

Maura was quick to look to Olivia for help on what to say to this.

Olivia shook her head, and Maura stood a little straighter.

"It's none of your concern who I know and who I don't know, miss. I know plenty more than you think I do and that's all you need to concern yourself with. Now get dressed and see to it your company doesn't disturb your father." the housekeeper said.

She turned to Olivia.

"Good to see you dear." she said. "I'll see you before you leave in my personal sitting room downstairs and we can have a nice visit."

Olivia nodded as Felicity gave her a questioning look.

As soon as the plump maid was gone, Felicity spoke.

"Maura has been in this house over 20 years and as far as I know, she only goes to church on Sunday mornings and visiting with friends on Sunday afternoon. How does she know your mother?" the swan girl asked.

~ Arthur looked over the letters written in his daughter's fine, well practiced script. They explained that she had defied him and gone to California with her friend and would be back by summer's end and not to worry.

"She's not in California, sir." the private detective said from across his filthy desk.

"Sir, I've paid you over a thousand dollars _and_ expenses to bring my daughter back home, and all you have to show for it is, she's not in California?" Arthur growled.

"Look, this friend of hers, Helen? I checked the school your daughter goes to. Helen White. She and her Aunt booked a room in San Francisco two days ago and before that, they were in L.A." the detective said.

"Right, my daughter has been with them, look at the post mark." Arthur said. "Now, where is she?"

"I called the front desk, only three people are in that party, none of them match the description of your daughter." the detective said.

"Something might have happened to her." Arthur protested.

"I thought of that." the detective agreed. "I called the station in L.A. No bodies or missing girls have turned up matching Olivia Bradford's description from the time of the last letter until now."

Arthur sat back in his chair.

"I need to go to California." he said at last.

"No need. She's not there. I even had a buddy of mine tail the friend she was supposedly staying with." the detective said.

"The letters-"

"Your daughter is a smart girl." the detective said. "If it were me, and I wanted my old man to think I was somewhere I wasn't, I might have given pre-written letters or postcards to a friend and have them mail them on specific dates back home. That way, the person receiving the post card would look at the return address mark and think I really was there."

"There where the hell is my daughter?" Arthur suddenly shouted.

"Think, Mr. Bradford. Is there anywhere she talked about going to? Anyplace on earth she might try so hard to go, and not have you find out?" the detective asked.


	16. Chapter 16

16.

~ "The _Olympic_?" Felicity asked again over dinner. "You were actually on the sister ship to the _Titanic_?"

"Yes." Olivia said as Harold tried to calm the swan girl's excitment.

"Tell me every, stop it Harry, tell me everything!" Felicity said with a wide smile. She swatted her brother away as he tried to get her to sit sill and eat dinner.

Julian seemed to take in the dinner conversation as a form of amusement rather than join in. He looked delighted by Felicity's energy as she demanded to know about the grand staircase on _Olympic_ and how it was just like _Titanic_.

"Well, it wasn't nearly as nice as it was back when it was new." Olivia said reluctantly. She didn't want them to know she had traveled second class and the once grand ship had lost a lot of her shine because of age and the war years.

"I wonder if the grand staircase is fully intact on _Titanic_." Felicity said in a dreamy sort of air. "I had this story idea that all the people who died on that ship-"

"Enough!" growled a hateful animal from the head of the table.

The party of four young people turned to look at Mr. Eames. He was the only one who failed to dress well for dinner. Instead, showing up in well worn clothing that looked tired, patched and frayed. It was as if the gardener had taken a seat at the elegant diner party.

Felicity looked ready to argue but her father beat her to it.

"I won't hear anymore about _Titanic; _not from you or anyone else. It was a tragedy and many lives were ruined when she sank. You think shipwrecks are so amazing and romantic, child, but they are not." Eames growled and went back to his soup.

Felicity blushed red and looked to Julian. Eames had not taken Julian's arrival very well. He had refused to shake the young man's hand and spent most of the dinner not speaking to anyone.

"Forgive Papa." Felicity said to the room. "He and I are having a spat. I wanted to go to Paris to see my cousin Phillipa and her friend."

"Her _lover_." Eames grumbled.

"There is nothing wrong with taking a lover, papa. Even if he is a married man. He takes good care of her and that's all that matters." Felicity said happily.

"You're not going to Paris." Eames said coldly. "And it's not just because of Phillipa and her lifestyle."

"Papa blames the new movement in Germany for canceling my trip, but I think he just doesn't want me to have fun with Phillipa and meet all the actors and models there." Felicity said merrily.

"Well, the world is changing." Olivia said calmly. "Perhaps your father is right. Perhaps you can travel to America or Australia." she offered.

Felicity laughed and shook her head.

"Australia? That might as well be the ends of the earth!" the swan girl said. "As for America, perhaps, because I doubt I can live here much longer."

"And what will you do for money in America?" Eames asked.

Felicity glared at him and Olivia felt uncomfortable. Finally, Harold stepped in.

"Let's not talk about this in front of company. We never have the pleasure of guests, lets enjoy them and talk of more pleasant things." he said smoothly as he gave Olivia a reassuring smile and she felt herself relax. How easy things were with him. He could make the worst situations melt away with a few well chosen words. He reminded her of her own father without the short temper or the unreasonable demands. She felt a grateful smile tease her lips, and tried to hid in by sipping her water.

Eames was quick to finish his dinner, complained he had work to do and excused himself; telling his children and their guests to keep the noise down.

The young people sat in silence as he hobbled out of the dinning room and back into his cave of the conservatory.

"Does he always stay in there?" Julian asked and Olivia was wondering the same thing.

"Always." Harold sighed.

"Julian, I want to show you around the house. It's still early." Felicity said happily as she stood and, giggling like a school girl, she pulled him to his feet.

Olivia noticed the way Julian and Felicity moved together. How his hand slid gracefully onto her waist and there was never a clumsy misstep or an ill timed movement. Their bodies were like dancers even if they were just walking side by side.

"Felicity." Harold said with a certain hardness to his voice that worried Olivia as he started to stand up.

"We'll be fine, Harry. You and Olivia need some time alone." she scolded and she and Julian quickly made their escape.

Olivia felt her face flush hot at being alone with Harold again. She hadn't been alone with him since he had inadvertently given her his last name and caused them both to be irreparably embarrassed.

The silence grew heavy as they avoided each others eyes and Olivia wondered if it was too early to go to bed.

"I'm sorry." he said at long last.

"Oh." she said and avoided meeting his gaze. The fancy ladies school her father made her attend did not prepare her for this.

"For what?" she asked politely.

"For calling you... for adding... well you know what." he said and they both sipped water for something to do.

"Oh, I hardly noticed, sir." she said airily. She was trained to publicly forgive the blunders of others and claim she didn't notice any lapse in manners. This would ensure that both parties were not humiliated and the sin as forgiven.

"You noticed, madam." Harold said with a laugh. "I am sorry if I ruined your first meeting with Felicity."

"You should know that she thinks she's in love." Olivia said after a worried glance to the door.

Harold looked unhappy.

"I know she has very fanciful ideas about romance and love. Most men do not share those ideas." he said in a grumpy way that reminded Olivia of her father. She felt happier about that thought. Perhaps her father would approve of Harold where other men had fallen short.

"I think it would help if you talked to her." Olivia said as she wished Harold would stop looking at her with those nice eyes of his.

"She's never been the sort to listen to me." he explained. "Ever since she was young, she hasn't been able to be controlled."

"Harold, if you leave your sister unchecked, she will ruin herself." Olivia said in a harsh tone.

Harold put his napkin down and glared at Olivia. She felt herself shutter as his once kind eyes turned harsh.

"I've done as mush as I can to prepare my sister for the world, madam." he said. "It's up to her to make her own decisions now. If she falls in love and gets her heart broken by that American playboy, so be it. She'll be wiser from the experience. I don't believe in living a sheltered life."

Olivia sat back as if offended.

"I think it's late." she said and stood.

She wasn't at all surprised to see Harold stand with her. It was obvious he was a true gentleman who respected elegant table manners and who would stand when a lady entered the room or left it. She was not expecting him to join her at the door to escort her to her room.

"I think I can manage, sir." she said and stepped away from him.

"I've had one of the maids make a room ready for you." he said. "You cane use Felicity's clothes until you're ready to depart." he said as he walked her upstairs.

"Thank you." she whispered meekly as they passes a truly hideous portrait of a young, horse face woman in a pink dress that was filled with hoop skirts and girlish bows too young for the teenage girl to wear.

"Who's that?" Olivia asked as she tried to avoid the simply ugly young woman.

"Aunt Percy." Harold sighed. "Mr. Eames used to keep her in the ladies parlor until his mother came and had the painting removed. She was mistress of this house for many years but died in the fire. Her portrait, because it was moved, survived. I think he keeps it here to frighten intruders."

Olivia smiled as she felt his hand reassuringly clasp hers and guide her to her room.

She had to say something, they were almost to her bedroom now and what if he asked to stay with her? What if he saw her bed and forced her on it in a fit of passion? She wasn't used to being around men except her father, and now she was alone with one. What would he do if she invited him in? No, she could never have him in her room alone. But she _had_ been in her room before at the inn, and she wasn't sure if he had seen her change or not. But this felt different somehow at Blue Rivers. A house full of unspoken secrets and a place that whispered the tales of lost loves.

"Harold?" she said taking a deep breath as she opened her bedroom door. A nice room Felicity had shown her before they went to dinner.

"Olivia?" he teased.

"You should know, I... I have a gentleman back in America whom I... well who I intend to marry in the fall." she lied. Even in her own head, it felt like a bad, feeble lie.

"Oh?" he asked indifferently.

"Yes." she said as his eyes were laughing at her.

"What's his name; your future husband?"

"His name is irrelevant, but I would hope that you'll be enough of a gentleman to..." she faltered as she imagined Harold in bed with her. "Well, that you'll remember that I'm alone here and need... well that I'm spoke for and not attempt to take advantage."

"Madam, I have my chance to take advantage, and I failed to do so." Harold said smartly.

Olivia felt slightly offended, although she wasn't sure why.

"Sir." she started to say.

"Goodnight, madam." he whispered and kissed her lips.

She almost called out to him. Called out to ask him to explain himself when he turned, and left her.

**Sorry it took so long to post a chapter. I had a busy weekend. I saw family and went out with friends and lived like a real person for a change. Good news! I finally got a new computer! A Mac no less! Now, I just have to put all my crap on it, and get used to using PAGES instead or WORD and I'll be set. It's a good thing I got the new computer. My shift key stopped working, and my W key won't work right either. It was just time for an upgrade. **


	17. Chapter 17

17.

~ Olivia kept thinking Harold might return to her room. She quickly took a bath and dressed in a plain, but feminine night dress. She found herself brushing her hair a lot and looking at the clock. She would catch her reflection in the mirror and wonder if Harold thought she was pretty.

She had never been kissed before. Not like he had just done; fully on the lips with such a sweetness in it that her lips still tingled.

She thought Harold must think she was pretty enough to kiss and that made her blush harder as she brushed her hair out in front of the vanity mirror.

She looked at the clock again. It had been over an hour and Harold had still not knocked on her door. Still had not come to her.

What would she do if he did show up at her door? She was suddenly seized with the horror of what to do with a man in her room. Would he demand she kiss him again? Would she have the courage to say no?

Her cheeks grew warm at the idea of Harold rushing into her room, his body hot and wanting hers in the bed...

She felt a flight of nervous butterflies let lose in her belly at the idea of what they would do there. The whispered gossip of the 'fresh' girls from school in the bathrooms. The things they did in dark secluded places so they could keep their boyfriends interested.

She couldn't do that. She wasn't that kind of girl. If Harold did show up to her door, she would have to find the courage to say no.

Her body didn't want to listen to her mind and her own good sense however. It felt alive and almost electric. She kept thinking of what it would be like to have Harold's body on top of hers and the realization that she wanted such a thing made her feel ashamed. It was wrong to have such thoughts, wrong to think about Harold like this. Wrong to climb into bed early and turn off the lights. Her own hands slipping under her night dress, under her underwear and gently cupping her sex. The heat from her palm gave her some relief as she imagined her hand was his. Stroking and rubbing her to frenzied wetness. What she was doing wasn't right or normal and the teachers and school said it wasn't healthy to do. But she couldn't help it. It felt too good.

Her body suddenly went tense as a rush of satisfaction raced through her blood and she stroked herself harder as she wished it was Harold with her. Holding her, kissing her and being with her in ways she didn't know how to ask for yet.

She let out a whimper and shutter as she felt her body complete it's self gratification and a feeling of deep shame set in as she had to get up, wash herself once more, and promise herself never to abuse her body again.

~ Out in the gardens, Felicity was burdened with no such self loathing. She was in love with the handsome American man who danced wonderfully and who's good looks went so well with hers, it would have been a sin not to be with him.

"Felicity." Julian muttered as she wrapped her long legs around his waist, her slight body resting on his lap as they kissed so feverishly, it was like they couldn't stop.

"What is it?" she whispered under the bright light of the full moon.

"I think it's too soon for this." he said calmly as her hips rolled pleasingly over him.

"I don't." she whispered and unzipped her evening dress, allowing the fancy garment to fall off her shoulders and expose her milky white skin to him.

Julian leaned back in the grass and stared up at her. His hand lazily reaching up to her breast and cupping it.

"I'm not looking for a wife, Felicity." he admitted.

She felt her face fall slightly and he only shrugged.

"I came to Europe on vacation from school. I wanted to meet interesting people, and I did just that. You're the most interesting woman I've ever met." he said sadly.

"But you don't want to be with me?" she asked and pulled her beaded dress back over her shoulders. Suddenly embarrassed by the fact he saw her, and refused her.

"I do want you." he admitted. "But I can see it in your eyes, you want more from me then I'm able to give."

She didn't understand and he could read the confusion in her face.

"You want the fairy tale, Felicity. You think we'll fall in love and go off and have grand adventures. Well, that won't happen. It's one more year of college, then it's off to work in my father's ad agency and I'm to marry his friend's daughter. In twenty years, I'll have a few kids, a house and only memories of a wonderful girl. You, meanwhile, will have an amazing life. You'll have lovers and friends who'll show you the world. I'm not the man you need." he sighed.

"You sound like Harold." she whispered and leaned down to kiss him on the lips.

Julian chuckled darkly.

"I'm doomed to share his fate." he said with a smile as he kissed her back.

"So, you don't want to be with me because your destiny has already been decided for you? Even though you're from America, a land where you make you're own destiny?" she teased and looked sadly at him. "How utterly tragic."

"Now, dear lady." Julian smiled as he rolled her over on her back and she felt the sweet smell of summer grass and his pleasing aftershave.

"I know I can never compare to a life of dullness that you're family expects. Daddy doesn't know it yet, but I plan to run away to Paris to live with Phillipa. I doubt there will be anything made of all this talk of the radicals in Germany. It's made up to sell papers." she assured him.

Julian was staring down at her. His biting blue eyes examining her thoughtfully.

"I wish I had your courage, Felicity." he whispered.

She smiled.

"We can leave together. In the morning, just you and I." she said in a conspiratorial whisper as his hands were moving up her dress as she felt her panties slip off.

"What would we do for money, dear?" he asked she started to fall down the rabbit hole of passion. Her blood quickening as she couldn't stop kissing him and she felt the dangerous precipice she was about to leap off of. She had never been with a man before. Not like this.

She had always imagined it to be more romantic, and not in the grass on a hot summer's evening. Yet, at this moment, there was no where in the world, she would rather be.

"Are you sure?" Julian was asking and she wasn't exactly sure what would happen next. Her education in romance not extending to what happened between a man and woman beyond the first stages of infatuation.

"Of course." she whispered as she felt her body grinding on his and was grateful he was helping her undress. She wanted this, wanted it to be him for her first time. Wanted it to be him forever.


	18. Chapter 18

18.

~ "Good morning." Harold said as Olivia joined him for breakfast.

She felt embarrassed by what had happened last night and how she had acted. The lies she had told him about some gentleman back in America.

"Oh, good morning." she said clumsily.

"I trust you slept well." he said as he drank only coffee.

"I did." she said and refused to look at him as she helped herself to fruit and fresh bread. Her stomach growling into life at the smell of good food.

"Where is Felicity and Julian?" she asked as she suddenly realized they were alone at the dinner table.

Harold took a long sip of his coffee, winced at it being too hot and took his time in answering her.

"Felicity always sleeps in. Eames lives in the conservatory and I've no idea where Julian is." he said.

"Oh." she said sadly and suddenly wished she wasn't alone with Harold.

"Well, I was thinking, if it's not too much trouble, that we could go back to London today." she said.

Harold looked at her sharply.

"So soon? You just arrived and you've barely gotten to know Felicity." he said.

"Yes, but I've thought about it and, well, Felicity is practically a grown woman now. I don't think she would want her world, her idea of her own past, shaken by the appearance of a half sister she knows nothing about." Olivia explained.

"Is this sudden need to depart Blue Rivers because I kissed you?" he said and put his cup down to glare at her.

"No, it's just-" she started to say.

"Are you worried you might have been unfaithful to Simon because I kissed you?" he asked.

"What?" she asked.

"You're intended. You said his name was Simon." he told her logically.

"Oh, yes. No! I don't plan to tell Simon about something like that." she said as she had forgotten her lie about being engaged.

Harold's lips turned into a smile.

"See, you never even told me his name last night. I just now gave you the name Simon to catch you lying to me." he said.

"Don't feel bad." he added when he saw her shocked face at being found out. "Felicity was the best liar in the world and I had to be very clever to catch her."

"Harold." she said after collecting herself and hoping she wasn't too red with embarrassment.

"I like you, Olivia." he sighed. "But it's clear you're not interested. I'm sorry I kissed you last night, it was very ungentlemanly of me and it won't happen again."

"I..." she floundered. "I never said I was offended by it." she told him.

"But I can tell you're not interested in me. I can respect that-"

"I never said that either!" she cried out. "Stop trying to put words in my mouth!"

He raised an eyebrow as she tried to get her thoughts together. She put her hands up to her brow so she couldn't see him.

"So... you're not angry?" he asked. "About the kiss."

"No." she said quickly.

"And you've no gentleman waiting for you back in America." he added.

"Just my father." she sighed.

"So, if I haven't offended you, and you've no lover to return to, why do you want to leave Blue Rivers? Am I that repulsive?" he asked.

She felt herself smile.

"Hardly, sir." she said and felt her body grow warm.

"If I don't repulse you, and you do anything but repulse me, perhaps we can spend the day together." he offered. "I can give you a tour of the house and grounds. Take you to the village."

"Harold, I've never... I went to an all girls school and Barnard isn't co-ed." she said feebly.

"So, you've had no interactions with men other than silly dances and parties." he concluded.

"Yes." she said sheepishly.

"I see." he said and then smiled. "So, this would prevent you from touring Blue Rivers and the village?"

"It would hardly prevent me, sir." she said feeling like he was teasing her.

"Are you afraid to be alone with a man? I've heard some women are, but I've never met one. Are you afraid I'll compromise your virtue, madam?" he said lightly.

She had no response for this as he started laughing.

~ Felicity woke up with the sunlight warming her face. She and Julian had fallen asleep near the pond after they had made love for the first time. It hadn't been what she expected at all. It had been rather clumsy and painful as her lover didn't seem to readily grasp her body language and needs.

He had been too eager and didn't act at all like the men in the romance novel she read. But he had kissed her a lot and that was very pleasant. They talked about eloping and running away to India or America. Felicity still wanting to go to Paris and how she planned to go against her father's wishes.

"Did you sleep well?" Julian was asking as he kissed her closed eye lids. That sweet, perfect feeling of infatuation, of never getting enough of each other, of forgiving all faults made Felicity lighter than air as she woke up.

"Very well." she whispered and rolled over onto Julian's body.

"We didn't make it home last night. Will your father and brother be suspicions?" he asked.

"Hardly. I sleep outside all the time." she smiled as she felt as cozy as a well pampered house cat.

"So long at your father doesn't come after me with a shot gun." Julian laughed.

"Papa is cloistered in his writing room dreaming about mother most likely." Felicity sighed.

"That's right." Julian sighed. "His wife died a while ago."

"Yes." Felicity said sadly. Not wanting to think too heavily on the subject of mother.

"I saw a photograph of her in the sitting room. She was very beautiful." Julian said and Felicity only rested her head on his chest; listening to his heart beating.

"It must have been hard on your father to lose her. Men claim to be the stronger sex, but we're weak without the women we love." he said

"Oh?" Felicity said dreamily.

"Yes. I think I would fall into depression as well if I lost you." he told her and ran his hand over her dark hair in it's fashionable bob.

What was he trying to say? That he already loved her? That he already couldn't live without her?

"I hardly remember mother." she told him. "Sometimes I think I remember her, but then I know it's just stories Papa and Maura used to tell me."

"I'm sure she loved you. How could anyone not love you?" he whispered.

"Do you love me, Julian?" she asked.

"Yes." he said quickly. "Since I first saw you. I've tried not to rush into this, I feel like it's dangerous to love a woman like you, but I can't help it."

"Then lets run away together." she whispered and kissed him.

"Felicity." he sighed.

"Let's go to America together and I'll be your bride. We can go to California and pick oranges." she whispered.

"Felicity." he said sadly. "I'll be leaving with my brother in a few days to go back to Boston."

"Perfect, I'll go with you."

"Felicity, I'm going to marry my best girl Agnes White next month. This time in England, was sort of a last fling for me." he said.

She sat up and looked at him.

"What?" she asked.

"I know we said a lot of things last night, but they were just words. I'm going back to America and getting married." he explained.

"Julian. I..." she said and couldn't think of how everything had turned so wrong so quickly.

"Felicity, you didn't really think we would run away together did you?" he laughed. "Look, you're a lovely girl and I will always remember that. I'll always remember how beautiful you are and how perfect last night was."

"I slept with you. I gave myself to you." she hissed.

"I didn't ask you to. I didn't take advantage. I never promised you anything." he said sternly. "Lets not ruin our time together by pretending this was more than it was."

Felicity felt her rage boil over. So many times, when she was young, she lost herself. Lost herself in a fog that she had to wander out of. She had always attributed it to Blue Rivers and it's strange beauty that held so many secrets. She didn't remember how she got back to the house, alone and soaking wet. The evening air carrying a chill in it that made her shutter with fear.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19.

~ Olivia tried to act natural and knowledgeable as Harold showed her around Blue Rivers. It was a magnificent house, full of amazing detail she wasn't used to seeing in New York. She tried to remember her art history as he showed her an original Monet and some more very valuable paintings they were on every wall of the house.

"She was built in 1791 by Lord Theodore Bradford. He had made his fortune selling armaments to the American colonies during the revolutionary war." Harold explained as he showed off the grand hallway.

"It's such a shame the fire destroyed so much of the original house." Olivia sighed.

"Eames had much of it restored." Harold explained casually. "The real scandal was when your father came to Blue Rivers with his new bride, and had not only electricity installed, but telephone service as well."

Olivia smiled widely at the idea of her father, always the forward thinker, putting in a new modern marvel in such an old home.

"At the time, the only other phone for miles was a the post office and little hospital. But now, almost all the village has a home phone." he explained.

"I wish I could have grown up here." Olivia sighed. "It's such a wonderful house."

Harold looked sad for a moment as they wandered into the library.

"Mr. Eames, he wasn't always like he is now. He was very pleasant before mother died. I doubt he ever forgave her for dying and leaving him." he said.

"Well, I don't think she could help it." Olivia scoffed. "She had two young children who needed her. I'm sure she didn't plan to leave Felicity and I. Or you." she added.

Harold nodded.

"Blue Rivers just wasn't the same after she died and your father took you back to New York with him. If not for Maura, I doubt we would have survived. Eames locked himself up in that damn conservatory for days and weeks on end." Harold explained with a certain bitterness in his voice. "Felicity was running wild, I needed his support. He called mother selfish of dying and leaving him, but he left us to."

Olivia watched her companion look over elegantly framed photographs of her mother and Mr. Eames in the conservatory. He was at his typewriter, the plants around them alive and rich with life. Her mother looked casually elegant in long pants and simple blouse. They were like a pair of handsome adventures who were writing about their experiences. Mr. Eames looked nothing like his former self these days. The man who haunted the conservatory now was just a ghost of the handsome creature in these old photographs.

She picked up the large, framed picture and tried to remember her mother.

"I'm sorry." she said at last to Harold. "To lose your mother and then your father. Then to lose the step mother you cared so much for and be abandoned by the last person who is supposed to take care of you. It's too much for someone as young as you were."

"I agree." Harold said and looked over her shoulder at the picture.

"What was mother like? I mean, I barely remember her at all." Olivia asked.

"She was... she always made me feel very safe and included. I knew she cared for me and she was always telling me she would never leave me. That she needed me to help her with you and Felicity and she couldn't manage without me. I had this fear that she didn't love me like she loved you, and she loved you Olivia, but I always felt at home with her."

"You said Daddy divorced her so she could marry your father, but she didn't know he had divorced her. She still thought he was dead when she passed away. I wonder if she knew he was really alive, if she would have chosen him instead of marrying Eames." Olivia mused.

Harold said nothing and didn't meet Olivia's eyes.

"It's no matter now." Olivia sighed. "The past is the past, and there is nothing we can do to undo it."

"Very true." Harold said sadly.

"What was Felicity like when she was young?" Olivia asked. Suddenly, she was rabidly curious about the sister she knew nothing about.

"She was very different from you." Harold laughed. "The two of you may look alike, but that's where it ends. Felicity was a wild thing before mother died, and Eames' retreat into his own world didn't help matters. It was all Maura and I could do to keep her from running off to live in the forest with the fairies she claimed to see."

Olivia had to envy Felicity a childhood like that. To grow up with an absentee, but imaginative father, a charming and loving older brother, and freedom to do as she wanted. Her own home with her father had been restricted and she would never have been allowed to run in the woods looking for fairies.

She felt a sudden pain in her heart at the idea of home. Her father may be strict and unreasonable, but he was her home. She loved him and missed him. She wished, wished more than anything, she could have grown up here with mother and her father. That she could have had a funny, spirited little sister to play with and Harold by her side. She should have never have left home, should have let the ghosts of this house rest in peace.

"You're planning on leaving, aren't you?" Harold asked, reading her mind.

"My poor father must be worried sick." she admitted. "I've never been this long without him."

"I understand that." he whispered sadly.

She was filled with a certain daring she had only felt a few times in her life. Did he want her to stay? Was that what he was trying to ask her? They had enjoyed a wonderful morning and afternoon together. It wasn't magical being around Harold, but it was comfortable and easy at times.

"Would you want me to stay?" she asked him with a trembling voice.

Harold looked embarrassed.

"You would be welcomed; if you wanted to stay." he said.

"What about Mr. Eames?" she asked. "You said he detests visitors."

"He does." Harold agreed. "But the dragon stays locked up in his conservatory all day. Besides, you won't be his guest, you'll be mine."

He looked over at her then with such warmth and kindness in his eyes, Olivia felt her knees weaken.

Without asking or another word, he leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips. She didn't resist and was left with her lips feeling tingly, just as they did last night.

"I used to kiss you all the time when we were little and you hated it." he teased.

"Well, it's truly awful." she countered and started to laugh. She couldn't look at him just now and shied away from his enchanting gaze.

The way Harold looked at her sometimes made her nervous. As if he was studying her and she wasn't used to be the object of a man's attention.

She looked back at him, and suddenly realized he was no longer looking at her. His face was concentrated out the window and his handsome features were in a deep scowl.

"What is it?" she whispered as she tried to see what he was seeing.

"It's alright." he said and started to move away from the window, his hands on her hips as he forced her to move from the library as well.

"What's wrong?" she asked. She knew now something wasn't right. She had never seen that look on his face before.

"I think Maura wanted to see you. She'll be in her sitting room downstairs this time of day. Why don't you go find her? I just remembered I have things to take care of or I would go with you." he said hurriedly as he showed her to the servants entrance that lead to the basement kitchens.

"Harold?" she called after him as he was quick to abandon her.

~ Again. How had this happened again?

Harold made sure Olivia wasn't following him before slipping out of the side entrance and into the seldom used gardens. It was a favorite path he and Felicity would use when coming back from the pond on summer days, because the servants would never see them. In fact, the only real view of the path, was in the library. That was where he saw Felicity, soaking wet and confused looking, coming back to the house.

She looked almost frightening in the cooling summer air. Her dark hair drying in a wild shape and her face gloomy and not at all the girl she normally was.

"Felicity! What happened? Where's Julian?" he demanded as he reached his sister and she seemed caught in a trance.

"Felicity?" Harold barked when she didn't seem to comprehend.

She finally looked at him. Her large dark eyes confused.

"Harold?" she asked.

"What happened? Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm cold." she whispered.

"What happened?" he barked.

"I... I don't know." she said weakly.

Harold wrapped his arm around her shoulders as she started to cry softly. He looked nervously around him to ensure they were alone before taking her back into the house to clean up.


	20. Chapter 20

20.

~ "These are wonderful." Olivia laughed as she looked over the old sepia colored photographs. Maura insisted she eat more lemon cake as the two women had hidden themselves in the maid's sitting room downstairs. A private oasis from the noisy work of the servants.

Olivia was looking over the photograph album the Maura had obviously spent years perfecting. A dizzying array of old pictures that she had never seen before of her mother, her father, Eames, Harold and Felicity.

"That's a photo of Lord Bradford and the missus around Christmas in 1912. Mr. Eames had just brought home the camera and he took a great deal of pictures of your mother." Maura explained as she showed Olivia a photo of a very pregnant Ariadne in front of a fire.

"So, Daddy and Mr. Eames, they knew one another well? I only ask because it's so strange he divorced her and then she married his cousin." Olivia asked.

Maura shook her head and showed her more pictures.

"I always was a little afraid of Lord Bradford when I first met him. We were on the _Mauritania_ in 1912, and I was a new maid. I had only been in service less than a month and had nor references when missus hired me. I thought I would only be her maid for the voyage, but she made your father keep me on." Maura explained. "I wasn't ready to be a ladies maid and I know I failed her many times, but she told me I was the only one she trusted."

"The _Mauritania_ in 1912? That must have been interesting so soon after _Titanic_." Olivia said as she looked at the sepia colored pictures of her mother holding a grumpy looking baby. There were also photographs she had never seen of her father. How handsome Arthur Bradford was, sitting in the library where she and Harold had stood not an hour ago.

How happy and content her parents were in pictures. They looked so much like they belonged together. He was well dressed in a full on suit without a wrinkle, she complimenting him brilliantly in well tailored dresses that were fashionable but not flashy or too frilly. On his lap was a baby Olivia recognized as herself.

"They look so happy together." Olivia mused softly.

"They were." Maura told her.

"Then why did he leave her? Why did he divorce her?" she asked.

Maura sighed.

"As her maid, I knew a great deal of your mothers secrets. She never would have wanted you to know some of them. But I will tell you the ones I think you need to know, miss." the old maid said.

Olivia waited with baited breath.

"Mr. Eames was in love with your mother, the second your father brought her to Blue Rivers. They were expecting you already and had just come over from Paris to the grand house here. Eames did nothing to hide his feeling to another gentleman's wife and when your father left for a business trip to America, Mr. Eames wasted no time trying to seduce your mother away from her husband." Maura confessed to Olivia's horror.

"When the Empress sank, and we thought Lord Bradford had died, Mr. Eames wanted Lady Bradford to stay with him. He loved her, I know he did, but she loved your father. Then she met Fredrick, Harold's father, and a nicer man never existed. They got married and she promised to care for Harold while he was away. Fredrick came back from the war blind, crippled and dying." Maura said sadly. "He wasn't even in any condition to see young Harold and he died in the sick room here in the servants quarters."

Olivia opened her mouth to ask about Felicity. If Fredrick had lived long enough to see he daughter born, when Maura went on.

"Mr. Eames came back from the war about the same time as well. He was wounded, but healthy enough." Maura sighed.

"Healthy enough for _what_?" Olivia asked.

She sensed what Maura was going to tell her and fought back that same dizziness she had when she fainted on Harold a few days ago.

"Mr. Eames is Felicity's real father. When he came back from the war, her husband was still alive but dying, and they had an affair."

~ How could Harold have been so stupid and careless? He had let this Julian person, this stranger, come into their lives and allowed Felicity to bring him into her world.

He had been distracted by Olivia. There was no other way to avoid that conclusion. Since the second she had walked into his office, he had been distracted and couldn't concentrate on anything but her. She was wonderful and things were easy with her. She made him feel comfortable and secure and he had never felt like that before in his life.

Felicity's crying brought him back to reality.

She was sitting in the warm bath water with her knees pulled up to her chest.

"Did he hurt you?" Harold asked as he washed her back and hair as best he could.

"Who?" Felicity asked in a child like voice.

"Julian." Harold growled. "What happened with Julian?"

"I... he went home. He's going back to America." Felicity whispered.

"Felicity, what happened? Why were you soaking wet?" he asked.

"I went swimming." she said numbly.

"Julian's car is still here." Harold said bitterly. "You need to tell me what happened. DO I need to call the doctor for you?"

"No." she whispered. "Julian's gone."

~ Julian had a beautiful, new Rolls Royce car that was no doubt loaned by one of his well to do relatives while he was in London. The shinny blue car sat mockingly in the drive as night was starting to fall and Harold knew he didn't have much time.

The acreage around Blue Rivers was vast he he would never find Julian before dawn. Still, he knew there were places Felicity liked to haunt in the wilderness, and he followed the faint trail to the pond.

Light was fading fast and he had brought a flashlight to fight off the encroaching darkness.

How frighting the friendly grass and tress looked at night. The older parts of the estate, the parts destroyed by fire so many years ago had not been rebuilt and left to rot. It gave the grounds a haunted, forgotten look as wild flowers and ivy grew unchecked and hid things.

Harold was almost to the lake when he saw it. A trail that Felicity and her lover had walked in the grass was still there. He carefully followed it, and found discarded women's shoes he knew belonged to his sister.

He picked one up and looked for Julian. He couldn't see anything over the trees and tall grass. He moved a low hanging branch, and finally found the body.

Julian had his head bashed in with a rock. His teeth had been knocked out of his mouth and the dried blood on his face caused the broken teeth to stick to his skin like tiny white pebbles.

"Oh, no." Harold breathed as he check for a pulse. Julian's body was ice cold. He had been dead for hours while Felicity went swimming in the lake. Her time loss meant she had no memory of the murder she had committed.

~ He had to act quickly. He ran to the gardener's shed and pulled free a shovel and pick ax. The ground was soft after the spring rains and he was quick to dig a shallow grave for Julian. It was surprisingly easy work, and he was done in less than an hour. Julian, the once handsome young man that Harold knew better than to let get close to someone as dangerous as Felicity was rolled into the hole and buried. He would never be found. Blue Rivers grounds was too large to find anything once it was lost and buried.

Now, what to do with the car? He checked his watch. It was already 9 o'clock at night. He had missed supper and Olivia was no doubt worried about him. He had to get rid of Julian's car. Take it back to London and leave it someplace.

How would he get back to Blue Rivers? The earliest train didn't leave London till early in the morning.

He had to do it. He could involve no one else, especially not Olivia. If there was another incident, Felicity would be locked away. He was running on sheer adrenaline as he found the car keys in Julian's discarded summer jacket. No doubt cast aside when he and Felicity made love in the grass last night.

He ran to the drive and started the fancy car up. It would take hours to drive to London, and hours to get back by train. WIth any luck at all, Olivia would think he had stayed all night at Blue Rivers. The car would be found in London, and no one need ever know Julian was even here. Or, if they knew he had been here, he certainly hadn't stayed here. He had said he was going back to London, met someone disagreeable there and no one knows what happened.

"Please let this work." Harold whispered to himself as he drove the dark and lonely miles out of Blue Rivers. "Please, never let Olivia find out and never let Felicity remember."


	21. Chapter 21

21.

~ Olivia hadn't realized night had stolen the day when she parted from Maura. How strange time became at Blue Rivers. In this house, the nights were endless and stretched out like the ocean that never really ended. During the day, time seemed to speed up and before she even knew it, it was evening again.

"I'm sorry, sir, but have you seen Harold?" she asked one of the older footmen.

"I believe I saw him retire for the evening, miss." the older man said. "May I bring you anything?"

"No, thank you." Olivia whispered and looked at he stylish wrist watch her father had given her for her birthday. The same year he had forced her to register to vote. Saying that it was what her mother would have wanted.

But what kind of woman was her mother? An adulteress? A silly socialite who has affairs? She hardly remembered her mother; her poor father had suffered being a widower for years because she had chosen another man over him.

"Is Mr. Eames in the conservatory?" she asked the footman.

"Of course." the attendant said dryly.

"It's this way?" she asked as she stormed past him and to a pair of handsome stained glass windows.

"Miss, miss you can't go in there!" the footman said as he tried to take hold of her slender arm and pull her back. "Mr. Eames values his privacy!"

"I just bet he does!" Olivia scoffed as the doors gave away easily to her pushing them open.

She wasn't readily prepared for the conservatory. She expected a magical place, full of exotic blooms that needed the protection of a warmer environment and the sun shinning down on them all the time. She wasn't ready to see a decaying anarchy of dead plants, dirty, grimy floors and window panes so covered with filth, barley any light filtered in at all.

"You can not be in here!" the footman growled and pulled her harshly by the arm.

"It's alright, Mills." came an irritated voice from the shrouded gloom of the conservatory.

Olivia looked for the ghost who's voice had made the footman stop trying to force her to leave. The gloomy conservatory didn't reveal any secrets as the footman begrudgingly left her and closed the stained glass doors after him, leaving her alone with the wretched inhabitant.

"Olivia?" came the voice from the darkness and she could hear movement. The slow, steady walking of a man who was forced to ambulate with a cane because of a war wound.

She gasped slightly as she saw Mr. Eames come into view at last.

"What are you doing here, child? It's late." he said and Olivia had forgotten the entire reason she had come.

"Um... I wanted to talk to you." she said weakly as she instinctively backed away from Eames. A figure that now looked nothing like the photographs Maura had shown her. He wasn't the handsome, dashing writer he once was. He looked like the horrible phantom that haunted the heart of this house.

"Surely it can wait till morning." Eames said and looked down at his feet. "Where's Harold?"

"He's retired early." Olivia explained.

Eames scowled at this, but said nothing.

"I wanted to ask about mother." Olivia said with a trembling voice. "About how you seduced a married woman away from a husband who loved her."

His eyes flashed with a spark of danger and she backed away from him again. A strong fear gripping her that Mr. Eames might not be as harmless as Harold made him out to be. After all, she hardly knew these people who dwelled in this strange house.

"Is that what Arthur told you? That I had to seduce her to get her to love me?" he growled.

"My mother and father were happily married till you came along." she accused and allowed her anger to rise up like a rouge wave. She was reared never to be impolite or controversial, but those days were over now.

Eames let out a manic laugh.

"Married. _Happily_ married when I first met Ariadne?" he laughed. "And they were already expecting you, and were so delighted that they would be such a picture perfect family. Is that the fairy tale Arthur wove for you? That he came to Blue Rivers with his charming, radiant wife. That he was excited to be a new father. That his selfish, playboy cousin came along and stole her away from him and Arthur, being blameless, let her go?"

"Isn't that what happened?" Olivia accused.

"Child, I was there the day you were born. I was the one who comforted your mother the most when your father vanished, and trust me, there were many times he wasn't there for her. I can tell you things about your _father_," he said the word father with a spit in his voice. "that would shatter your perfect, sheltered life."

"What things?" she spat back. "By all means, redeem yourself, sir."

Eames looked as if he wanted to say something, but his attention was suddenly diverted away from the girl in front of him. He looked behind him, as if expecting to see someone there. As though he heard a voice in the stillness of the dead conservatory that Olivia could not hear.

She peered into the darkness behind him and saw a large oil painting of a regal looking lady in a blue dress. A dress that was fashionable almost twenty years ago.

She hardly recognized the portrait to be of her mother. The old photographs capturing the real Ariadne, and the painting making her seem almost mythical.

"I..." Eames breathed and had to sit down on one of the battered sofas.

"Mr. Eames?" Olivia asked worriedly.

"Ariadne." he wept in his hands. "I'm so sorry, darling. I won't, I won't say it."

"Mr. Eames?" Olivia asked as she knelt beside him and saw that the famed war hero and writer, was really no more than a broken man.

She lit an oil lamp, the electricity not working in the conservatory anymore, and shone it's feeble light around the large, frighting room.

Eames' hideaway was clearly where he had been living these past few years, Harold had not been exaggerating when he said that Eames never left. There were books, papers, two desks and a small twin sized bed kept in the center of the room. The Conservatory gained it's heat source from an old wooden stove and Eames had centered his world to surround it like a cave man. Across his bed, leaning against the wall, was Ariadne's portrait.

Olivia felt her heart break for the suffering man slightly. Clearly Harold and Felicity had given up on him. His failure to them in their formative years had left a bitterness that could not easily be forgiven. For the first time in a long time, she was grateful for Arthur. Grateful he was the kind of man who set rules for her. Who demanded she be at home with him each evening and who cared about her. He was hardly perfect, but at least he never hid from the world like a hermit in a broken and decrepit room of a grand house.

"Mr. Eames?" she whispered. "You can't stay here any more. Mother wouldn't want you to live like this."

"You hardly know what your mother wanted." Eames snarled and tried to dry his eyes the way a child would. His hands clumsily wiping his face.

"I know she wouldn't want to live like this. This place is filthy and it's going to be cold tonight. Let's get you in a real bed." she said gently and offered her hand.

Eames looked at her then and, for a moment, she saw a flash of the handsome charming gentleman he once was.

Wordlessly, he took her hand and Olivia braced herself as she helped him to stand.

~ He weakly guided her to the rooms that the staff always sat up for him, but obviously never used. A rather shocked older maid gaped at the pair of them as Olivia helped him up the stairs and down the hall.

"Would you please run a bath for Mr. Eames?" she asked and the maid nodded.

Olivia wasn't at all used to this kind of labor, but her schooling had taught her the efficient running of a modern household. She was capable of commanding the staff to help her charge get cleaned up. An older maid coming to help him clean up, shave and re-dress. Olivia made sure he had clean sheets and that a good breakfast would be brought to him in the morning.

"He normally doesn't eat breakfast, miss." the younger maid said worriedly as they made up the bed.

"Nonsense." Olivia scoffed. "He does now. I want that conservatory locked up tonight. Harold will recover his work papers in the morning. Eames will do his writing in the library, eat his meals in the breakfast room and sleep in a real bed as night. I will also be taking him on a walk to improve his health and his leg"

"Yes, miss." the maids said as Eames was guided to the large bed and he was asleep as soon as the covers were laid on him.

She felt slightly sorry for him as she shoed the maids away and went to work tidying up the room. A place that looked as if it hadn't really been used in years. She didn't bother to hang up his ratty old sweater or pants that were dirty and worn thin. Instead she balled them up to be burned and went searching in his closets for something decent to wear.

His closet was large and housed an impressive aery of men's clothing. None of them looking as if they would still fit the fatter Mr. Eames. She looked over handsome tuxedos and tried to find something for him to wear in the morning when her hands stopped on beaded dresses and finely made coats with fur.

A fashionable blue dress caught her eye and she realized this was the closet Eames had also shared with her mother. Ariadne's clothing still hung in the closet; awaiting her return.

**We have a new family member. Yesterday, I got a kitten we have named Sybil. She and our little dog get along which is good. Sorry my postings are so off lately. I've been busy being a dog/cat mom.**


	22. Chapter 22

22.

**Reading suggestion: Listen to "The Great Gatsby" Soundtrack "Young and Beautiful" while reading this next chapter. **

~ Arthur rolled over on his other side; trying to get more comfortable and failing. Once again, he was visited by the restless sleep that had caused him such distress after the_ Empress_ sank into the cold sea.

He let out a long sigh as he tried to think of something soothing and relaxed in his empty bed. He needed to sleep; he had a busy day in the morning. He was going on a ship to England to find Olivia and bring her back home. The whole idea of being back on a ship again made his heart race once more and he fought the urge to throw up.

He suspected Olivia had gone to Blue Rivers. She was only six years old when he brought her back home with him and he knew she still questioned some parts of her early life. Thankfully she had stopped questioning about her little sister whom she called Fel, and stopped asking about Harold. Instead, she believed the lies Arthur told her. Necessary lies to appease a sad child who had lost her whole world.

'_It's going to be fine._' he told himself. '_These new ships are faster and safer._'

"Problems, dear?" a musical voice came to him.

Arthur opened his eyes and knew right away he was dreaming.

Ariadne, his young bride, was under the covers with him. A faint light illuminating her beautiful face as she gave him and amused smile.

"No problems, madam." he grumbled as his memory gave back to him the smell of her hair and the feel of her skin. She was as young and radiant as she was the first night together on _Mauritania_. An evening he had been so proud to have her by his side.

"You look a little sick, are you alright?" she asked. Her expressive eyes pulling him deeper into a dream he didn't want to wake up from.

"It seems your daughter has taken leave of her senses and run off to meet Mr. Eames." Arthur said.

"_My_ daughter?" Ariadne sadly.

"I meant it as a joke, madam." he said dully. "_Our_ daughter has run away from home and gone to find Eames. Who knows what he's told her."

"Why should you be afraid of what Eames will say?" Ariadne asked and he ran a hand over the lace of her night gown. His fingers playfully catching her hair.

"Because there are things Olivia doesn't know about herself that I wanted to keep from her. I never wanted her to know the truth about Jeffery or why we really got married. What if Eames tells her?" Arthur worried.

"He won't." Ariadne said simply.

"How can you know that?" Arthur asked.

"I know Eames, he would never tell her anything other than Olivia Bradford is your daughter." Ariadne said and met his lips with such delicacy, Arthur thought he was tasting a rare desert.

"Olivia is _my_ daughter." Arthur agreed possessively pulling Ariadne into his arms.

"Yes, she is." Ariadne whispered as she kissed him lightly.

"You should have stayed with me, madam." he told her as he felt her small hands run through his hair.

He felt her warm, sweet breath on his lips and knew she was sad.

"I fell in love, Arthur." she explained.

"_We_ were in love. Remember?" he pleaded.

"Yes, we were." She agreed. "But Eames-"

"Stole you from me." Arthur grumbled.

"Arthur, you changed. You made me think you were dead. What was I left to do?" she said. Her beautiful eyes swimming with tears.

"Anyone but him. If I thought you would go back to Eames, I never would have left you." Arthur managed to say.

"But you did leave me." she said soberly and he felt the dream collapsing.

"Ariadne, don't go. I still love you. Please don't go." he cried as he woke up in an empty bed.

He looked at the alarm clock on his night stand. Ariadne's ghostly visit only last an hour, and he still had all night to look forward to.

His beloved late wife would often visit him at night. Her spirit finding him in dreams that he loved. Sometimes they were back on the Mauritania, sometime in Paris. Never were they at Blue Rivers together. Because only at Blue Rivers, could Eames come between them.

'_Dream of her._' he ordered himself as he willed himself to sleep again. '_Dream of us in a little house in the country. Olivia is still young, and we're happy. Dream of us happy._'

Arthur fell asleep and dreamed of the ship he was on was sinking. That Olivia and Ariadne were on the railing with him and he knew they would never survive. He knew that all of them were doomed to die.

~ Felicity woke up in the morning to birds singing. Her whole body felt sore and tired as she roused herself out of bed and into the bathroom. She didn't feel dirty, exactly, but she felt worn out. Like she had slept too long and her body was stiff from it.

It took her a long time to remember Julian. That they had made love and he said he was going back to Boston. That he wasn't going to take her with him.

What happened then? Had he gone home to America? Was he still at the house? She found she really didn't care, she was in a row with him and she didn't care if she never saw him again. It was exactly as she suspected, another handsome, arrogant young man trying to gain closeness to some literary God.

She dressed herself in a summer frock that was fashionably sheer and gauzy looking. She liked the way it made her feel nearly naked as she found a new energy and came downstairs.

She was expecting to find her father in his conservatory and was startled to see the maids had descended like flocks of birds into the forbidden world; cleaning it. A maintenance man was replacing broken glass and the gardener was taking out all the dried up and dead plants.

"Very nice, Mills." came an efficient, and brisk voice from the conservatory as Felicity hesitantly crept in.

"Madam, where shall we put Mrs. Eames' portrait?" Mills asked worriedly as Felicity saw maids on their hands and knees scrubbing the dirt from the tile floors and washing the windows to let the light back in. She never noticed that her father had covered the windows with newspaper to block the light until now. The cleaning crew transforming the conservatory into the place it once was.

"What's going on?" Felicity cried out and she finally spotted Olivia, Harold's little friend, making herself at home in Blue Rivers. Ordering staff about and cleaning out a place she had no business in.

"We are cleaning, Felicity." Olivia said and handed her a stack of typed pages. "Be a dear, and put these in the library. Mr. Eames is there right now getting his paper work organized."

"Did papa say you could do this?" Felicity nearly barked as the crew looked to be throwing away an old sitting room set that had been there since the restoration. It was broken and ratty now, but Felicity didn't want to see it go.

"Yes." Olivia said. "Mr. Eames is aware he is no longer allowed to live like this and his agreed to try life as a normal person. He will sleep in a real bed and eat with the rest of us. The conservatory is too cold at night for him to live in."

"Listen." Felicity snarled. "Just because you and Harold-"

"Where is your brother, by the way?" Olivia interrupted.

"What?" Felicity asked. Stunned such a person was in her home and taking over.

"I haven't seen him since yesterday evening. It's almost noon now, and he's not come down." Olivia said.

"He's... I don't know!" Felicity almost cried and threw down her father's papers. Silly pages of the childhood story he had devoted his life to that she now hated.

"Felicity!" Olivia said cooly. "You are not helping."

Felicity felt a giddy rush of defiance as she watched Olivia gracefully and very lady like pluck up the papers and organize them.

"Since you're not going to help, I won't have you here." the collected young woman said. "Mills?" she called and the balding butler reappeared.

"Yes, madam?" he said eagerly.

"Please put Mrs. Eames' portrait in the ladies parlor." Olivia instructed.

Felicity said nothing as the massive portrait of her mother was carefully moved out of the conservatory. Ariadne's eyes watching the two girls as the room was transformed.

~ Harold returned on the train that morning to find Blue Rivers in a power struggle. Felicity, child like as always and possessive about her territory, was shouting something to Olivia about how she had no business coming into the house and making changes.

He never heard Olivia's voice at all until he was a few steps away from the conservatory and found the doors were open and the strong scent of cleaning solutions wafted through the air.

"Olivia?" he called and spotted her supervising the removal of old plants and having Eames' papers taken to the library.

"I've been looking for you all morning." Olivia said with and exhausted sigh. "We need to move Eames' things to the library and I've no idea how he might want them. It seems he has his own system."

She handed him a stack of papers.

"I've got about a dozen drafts for another Knight and Witch book he wrote, and other short stories we need to go through. He must have forgotten all about them." Olivia sighed and brushed a lose tendril of hair off her face.

"What happened?" Harold asked as he willingly took the stack of papers Felicity had refused before. "Eames... is he dead?"

That could be the only explanation as to what was happening just now.

"Not at all, sir." Olivia said with a smile. "He's in the library and working. The keys have been going off all morning while the staff has been doing some much needed cleaning. Last night I convinced him to take a bath, and sleep in his room. I think it did him a world of good. He ate breakfast with me and after we get his papers sorted out, we're all going to go for a long walk. He needs the exercise and it will be fun for all of us to go as a family."

"Wait." Harold said as he followed Olivia out of the conservatory and into the library. "You got Eames to sleep in his own rooms, in his own bed?"

Harold had lost track of how many times he had begged Eames to live like a normal human being. The reclusive writer never fell for it.

"It wasn't hard." Olivia sighed as she laid a comforting hand on a strange man's shoulder.

Harold didn't recognize the stranger sitting at the desk going through papers and looking grumpy.

He almost tripped over a foot stood when the man tuned around and it was Eames.

Gone was the beard, the ratty, moth eaten sweater and sallow skin that had been his look for so many years.

Eames looked healthier than Harold had ever remembered seeing him before Ariadne died.

"Eames?" Harold asked in disbelief.

"We mustn't make a whole drama out of this, Harold." Eames said easily as he took the papers from Olivia.

"Did you drink all the water I gave you? Did you take the vitamins?" Olivia asked as she striated his desk.

"I don't like pills." Eames grumbled.

"I don't recall asking if you liked them, Mr. Eames, I asked if you took them. You haven't been eating properly and you need them." Olivia said as she handed him a small tea saucer with a bright red pill on it and a glass of water.

"I'm not going for a walk later." Eames grumbled.

"Why do you think you won't be going for a walk?" Olivia asked.

"My leg hurts." Eames explained petulantly

"It will hurt a great deal less if you come walking with us. You haven't exactly taken care of yourself and I know mother wouldn't have wanted that for you." Olivia told him soothingly as Eames took his vitamin.

"Olivia?" Harold questioned again.

Something had happened here. He had fallen down Alice's rabbit hole and found himself in wonderland. This wasn't the Blue Rivers he had left last night. That Blue Rivers was gone. It was almost like the Blue Rivers that... that had been commanded by Ariadne.


	23. Chapter 23

23.

~ Eames felt the stiffness work it's way out of the leg that had never sound from the war injury which almost ended his miserable life.

Ariadne had wanted to have a specialist come into see if there could be some kind of new treatment. After all, medical science was improving by leaps and bounds after the war. But her sudden passing had brought all concerns for his health to a sudden halt. He had stopped caring about anything but his own loss.

"It's good to see you out and enjoying the morning, sir." Harold said dryly as the younger man slowed his walk and allowed Olivia and Felicity to move ahead of the men.

Eames grumbled something about the weather and hobbled next to Harold. He envied Harold's youth, intelligence and good looks. But the thing that irked Eames the most was that Harold was a genuinely nice person. A sour, sullen disposition, like the one Arthur possessed would have suited Eames much more. Eames had felt coddled around Harold and treated like a child to be indulged.

"I'm very glad Olivia is here." Harold mused as they watched the women walking ahead of them.

"Hmm." Eames muttered.

"It's good you let her clean out the conservatory and that you're re-joining the land of the living." Harold added.

"It's only a temporary arrangement." Eames said sarcastically. "I'll be back with the living dead soon enough."

"Well, I think Olivia has been splendid company for us." Harold said and Eames couldn't help but see a glimmer in the younger man's eye as he looked at the slender creature walking ahead of them. Eames looked at Olivia then as if for the first time. His mind still pictured her as a sullen, far too intelligent six year old. It was difficult to imagine she was now this grown young woman who was walking in the gardens with them. Who had convinced him to come out of the conservatory in a way that would have made Ariadne proud.

His beloved Ariadne had been his caretaker, his light that guided him to a safe shore. He had never appreciated all she did within the house until she had left it. How she had taken care of the staff, how she had made certain he had eaten right and kept him focused on his work.

"Well, then marry the girl if she means that much to you." Eames snarled like a vicious dog.

"I'll certainly take that under advisement, sir." Harold said quickly. The youth not at all bothered by the hateful attitude of the older man.

"Hmm." Eames said. "Fair warning, women are nothing but trouble. You'll live in the utter euphoria of her love and beauty for a while, before it will crush you."

"Perhaps." Harold said airily. "On that note," he slowed their walk even more and allowed the two women to walk further ahead. "Felicity has had another incident. I think it's time to call Dr. Yuseff."

"What?" Eames whispered and looked worriedly at his lovely daughter. She could be Olivia's twin, but Felicity was far more beautiful than any creature had a right to be. How could she be so flawed?

"Julian." Harold said. "She... well the less you know, sir. Felicity needs to go into a special hospital."

"I won't put my only child into a sanitarium." Eames growled. A wolf like gleam coming over him.

"I understand that, sir." Harold said sadly. "Just like I understand she's _your_ child and not my father's."

Eames glared at the young man.

"I've known for a long time." Harold explained. "No need to be upset."

"I'm only upset by idea you think Felicity's problems can be cured by sending her to a mad house."

"Dr. Yuseff is doing fascinating work with electric shock therapy." Harold protested.

"No." Eames said bitterly.

"She lost time again."

"We've all lost time."

"Eames, she's dangerous."

"I said no!" Eames barked and the two girls turned to look at the men.

~ "What's all that about?" Olivia asked as she and Felicity walked ahead and admired the blooming gardens.

"Harold's most likely trying to convince Papa to finish his books." Felicity sighed.

"I've started to read the children's books he wrote about you." Olivia said helpfully.

"Yes, they are a magical kick in the face aren't they?" Felicity sighed.

"I wish my father was as imaginative as Mr. Eames." Olivia sighed.

"Well, we all envy how the other half lives until we get there and see they have problems to." Felicity sighed.

"I haven't seen Julian today." Olivia offered meekly.

"He went back to America." Felicity said in a a cold detached voice.

"I saw his car was gone. He was a nice young man, will he be back?" Olivia asked hopefully.

"No."

"Well, he was very nice company." Olivia said sensing Felicity wasn't ready to talk about it.

"Tell me, when you and Harold are married, will you be residing here at Blue Rivers? I only ask because you've seem to have already taken over." Felicity asked with a catty, there is no right answer, tone.

"Harold and I really haven't talked about our future." Olivia said and tried to brush off the hatefulness that wounded her like a knife.

"Well, I think you'll do very well here as Mistress of the house." Felicity said. "Papa seems to like you and I see you've already taken the liberty of bossing the staff about."

"Felicity, I'm sorry if that upset you, but your father can not keep living in the conservatory." Olivia sighed.

"Papa is master of the house and he will reside wherever he pleases." Felicity said and refused to look at Olivia.

"He has the right, but-"

"I'm done talking about this. I won't be staying much longer here anyway." Felicity said sourly.

"What? Where will you be going?" Olivia asked.

"Julian and I were thinking of California." Felicity said.

"You want to meet him in America?" Olivia asked in disbelief. "I thought you and I could get to know one another better."

"Why would we want to do that? I adore my brother, but he's a big boy and we're both parting ways now." Felicity said. "I don't want to be buried alive at this house like so many other generations of women."

"I think you should think about this." Olivia protested.

"I've thought about it. My fate lies in America." Felicity said brightly.

A change had come over the swan girl as she spoke about her future plans.

~ I found him last evening." Harold said darkly as Eames glared at his daughter and Olivia walking along the path ahead. "He'd had his head beaten in with a large rock."

"Where's the body?" Eames asked.

"I buried it. No one will find it. I took the car back to London and caught the morning train." Harold said realizing how tired he was after such a long night with little sleep.

"I see." Eames said sadly. "Perhaps he tried to have his way with her and she simply defended herself."

"Perhaps. Or perhaps it's the Dawson boy all over again." Harold offered.

"That was an accident." Eames said quickly.

"It wasn't an accident. The two of them were friends and then one day she beat him with a fire place poker so badly he ended up scared for life." Harold said. "Money made it go away, but we can't buy our way out of murder."

"Felicity is not a murderer." Eames grumbled as he looked at his beautiful daughter.

"You've hardly come out of your conservatory to know what she is." Harold said carelessly.

"Watch your tongue, sir." Eames hissed.

"Eames, she has to find help. We can't have her be a danger to herself and others." Harold told him.

"We'll keep her here. Not at some institution." Eames argued. "Take away her car and any means to leave the house."

"No, she needs treatment. Dr. Yuseff is a respected physician in the field of mental hygiene." Harold argued.

"No!" Eames shouted and the girls turned to look back at the men. Olivia looking worriedly at Harold.

"I will not lose my daughter. She's all I have left of Ariadne. Can't you see that?" Eames said.

"You've not failed Ariadne by treating your sick child, Eames." Harold said darkly. "You will fail her if you allow Felicity to become a mad woman and do nothing to help her."


	24. Chapter 24

24.

~ "I haven't see you since yesterday, what kept you?" Olivia asked as Harold managed to elude Eames and Felicity vanished back into the house.

"Oh, I... I was tired and went to bed early." Harold said absentmindedly as Olivia laced her arm around his and they walked in the gardens like a real couple.

"I was worried." she sighed as they watched a summer storm cloud approaching.

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again." Harold promised. "Congratulations on getting the old man out of his cave."

He turned back to see that Eames had fallen behind and was admiring the change of weather.

"Yes, well I couldn't very well leave him in that horrible place. No matter how much he may claim to like it." Olivia sighed. "Felicity is very cross with me about it, thinks I'm going to be a wicked stepmother to her I suppose."

"Don't worry about her." Harold said sadly.

"She told me she's leaving Blue Rivers." Olivia offered.

Harold looked darkly at the shifting clouds over them.

"She said she's going to go to California with Julian." she said trying to gain his attention.

"Lets get back inside and talk about this." Harold said as the first, heavy drops of a summer rain storm hit them.

~ Blue Rivers was even more magical when it was raining outside. The house became isolated and prison like. The heavy rain outside cutting off the outside world completely and hiding Blue Rivers from the world.

Eames was clacking away on his typewriter as Olivia brought the older man some tea and made him eat. The grumpy writer begrudgingly thanking her as he was absorbed in his own world and forgot he was safely at home.

"I doubt I've seen him looking so good since before mother died." Harold observed as they left him alone in the library.

"Yes, he cleans up nicely." Olivia said sadly. "Almost makes you forgive him for seducing a married woman."

Harold looked at her with a start.

"What makes you say that?" he asked and tired to avoid her eyes.

"Maura told me. How Felicity is really his child. How he made mother and adulterous and how Daddy divorced her because she was in love with Mr. Eames." Olivia said and fought back the urge to cry.

"I'm not sure that's exactly true. No one forces someone to be seduced." Harold sighed.

"Mother was married to my father and then yours. Doesn't it bother you that Eames came along and destroyed two happy homes?" Olivia asked.

"We don't know that they were happy." Harold retorted. I hardly remember my father. What I do remember of mother was that she was very content with Mr. Eames. You can't judge a woman for wanting to be with someone she loved." he argued.

"She loved my father." Olivia said coldly.

Harold sighed.

"I'm sure she did." he agreed. A defeated look in his eyes. "But we can't exactly change the past now can we? Are we going to hold the crimes of loving the wrong woman, the crimes of a young man, against an old cripple? He's hardly the same man who seduced her anymore is he? More than anyone else, he's suffered the most."

Olivia stared at him.

"I would have thought _we_ suffered the most, Harold. You, Felicity and I. We're the ones who have to live with the results of their decisions." she said.

Harold put his hand to his eyes. She noticed for the first time how tired he looked.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "You look exhausted."

"Didn't sleep very well." he said as the rain started to pound the windows of the large house.

"You should go to bed. Try and rest." she said gently.

"With this rain, I doubt I'll be able to take you back into town anytime soon." Harold said as the two of them walked up the large staircase and cast worried looks at the storm outside.

"I know." she said. "Harold, what if Felicity tries to leave for America?"

"She won't. She's no money or connections there." he said.

"What about Julian? She said she was going to meet him." Olivia said.

Harold looked troubled.

"She won't be meeting Julian." he said and looked at her sadly. "You were right, Olivia, I should have kept a better eye on her. Not allowed her to become so reckless with that young man."

"It's not your fault. She's her own person." Olivia said and she felt Harold clasp her hand.

She looked up at him and was startled by the fierceness she found in his blue eyes.

"Harold?" she breathed as his lips tempted hers and she was treated to the delightful taste of his kiss.

Her blood quickened in her veins, snapping like fire as her body woke up.

"I'm so glad you're here." he was whispering. "I feel like this place is complete with you beside me."

"Harold." she gasped and allowed him to kiss her again. His strong arms moving around her waist and pulling her to his body.

"Harold, I've never..." she breathed as he was kissing her and she felt like a boat adrift at sea. A thing that was so fragile and easy to lose in the storm that was coming.

"I know you never." Harold was breathing hard as he pulled away from her and she felt her cheeks were warm.

He looked over her face, studying it for a long time.

"I know you've never been with a man and you won't tonight either." he said sternly.

She felt her face pull into a scowl at not understanding.

Harold gently took one of her hands in his, kissing it like the knights of legend.

"When I take my bride to my bed, I want her to be intact." he said. "I want her to know only me."

~ Olivia felt her head was spinning as she tired to calm herself down. Harold. Something had come over him in the hallways outside his rooms. Some kind of lust that had pushed aside the polite gentleman and presented a man who declared he would have her for his wife. No, not even his wife. His _bride _in his_ bed_. That was what he had said.

She fell into her own bed as the rain continued to fall heavily outside. Sheets of rain now that were pouring over the house and grounds.

He had wanted her. Wanted her just as surely as a man would lust for any woman. She was smiling happily at the idea of Harold desiring her. Wanting her all in white and in his bed. She imagined for a few precious moments that she was mistress of Blue Rivers. She was Harold's wife, no bride, and he loved her with such passion each and every night.

She opened her eyes to reality and, for a moment, forgave her mother for giving into Eames' desire for her. Understood how such a thing, going against hard won morals, could happen. She had wanted Harold in that hallway after he had kissed her. Wanted him to take her to bed with him and wake up ever after in his arms.

~ As the rain fell harder over Blue Rivers, Felicity dreamed of a strange young man in the woods with magical blue eyes that turned out to be full of blood. Eames worked on the conclusion to his novel, and Harold worried the hard downpour might disturb the freshly covered grave of Julian Hunt.


	25. Chapter 25

25.

~ Olivia felt giddy when she woke up the next morning. Her steps seemed lighter as she almost flew downstairs where she knew Harold would be waiting for her at breakfast. She had expected to have the meal alone with him and was surprised to see Eames and the object of her affection talking quietly. The two men's heads bent down and their voices low and serious.

She was disappointed she could not be alone with Harold. She wanted to talk to him about last night and that kiss that had sent happy dreams to her.

"Good morning, gentlemen." Olivia said pleasantly as she sat next to Harold who looked uncomfortable.

"Morning." the younger man said as Eames started to eat his breakfast and ignored everyone else.

"I see the rain has stopped." Olivia said conversationally as she helped herself to a cup of coffee.

"Harold will be taking you back to London after we've eaten." Eames said gruffly.

Olivia almost dropped her cup in shock and Harold glared at the older man.

"What? So soon?" she asked and gave Harold an imploring, confused look.

"I'm afraid something has come up that will require our immediate attention, Miss Bradford." Harold said reasonably. "It's nothing that you've done, in fact, we've loved having you here." he went on and Eames didn't bother to hide the sourness in his own face.

"What's happened, if I may ask?" Olivia said with a shaky breath.

"Personal business." Eames said sharply. "The time has come for you to go back to America. You came here for answers about your mother and I gave them to you. Now, it's time for you to return to your father's house and attend what ever silly all girls finishing school he's no doubt sent you to."

"I completed finishing school years ago, you great oaf." Olivia snapped at Eames who looked happily surprised by the outburst.

"Olivia-" Harold said calmly.

"I'll start packing." she interrupted and stood up.

"Wait." Harold called after her as she all but fled the dinning room.

She was trying to hold back hot, angry tears at the idea of being driven from her mother's house like this. Of Harold and Eames rejecting her. How could she have been so stupid as to think that Harold would want her to be his bride? Want her for anything other than a novelty or a distraction from his no doubt tedious life of looking after Eames and Felicity.

"Olivia, please wait." Harold called as she tried to out race him to the stairs and he quickly caught up with her.

"Don't!" she snapped at him and pulled away.

"Look, I apologize for how Eames is acting right now." Harold said sadly. "Something has come up with Felicity and he's angry about it. It's nothing to do with you."

She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to look indifferent.

"Although, I think he liked you calling him a big oaf." Harold teased. "So few of us can get away with it."

He was grinning at her and she refused to give into his charms.

"I ned to pack. If, in fact you mean for me to leave." she said stiffly.

"I think it's best." Harold said.

She looked at him in surprise. What he had said last night, that wasn't true? He didn't mean to court her; marry her?

She pretended not be wounded as Harold tried to take her hand as they climbed the stairs to her room.

"I'll have the driver take you to the train station. If your plans to London are flexible, perhaps we can have dinner in Town." he offered.

"You won't be taking me back to London?" she asked.

"I'm sorry. This is a delicate matter with Felicity." he admitted sadly.

"I see." she whispered.

"Olivia, please stay in London a few more days." he said and tried to take her hand again.

She moved away from him and clutched the hand he sought in hers. Not wanting to grant him the privilege of pretending they were more than what they were.

"We can talk more then." he said hopefully.

"Talk. About what you said last night?" she said in a mocking voice.

Harold looked wounded.

"I meant what I said last night. I've come to have great affections for you and want to see you more socially." he said in a calm, well practiced voice.

"More socially than here?" she asked as they stood outside her rooms and Harold, out of respect, stayed out in the hall. His feet rooted to the doorframe but not allowing himself the temptation of entrance into her bedroom.

"I think it would be easier if you were to stay in London. Away from Eames and Felicity." Harold said gently as she packed her small traveling bag.

"No matter." Olivia said briskly. "My funding is such that I would hardly be able to afford a few nights of decent lodging, and the trip home. I'll be gone soon enough and you can find another diversion."

"Olivia." he said and stepped over the thresh hold of her bedroom, closing the door behind him and shutting them off from the rest of the world.

"What are you doing?" she breathed as there was man in her room. She was alone with a handsome, young man in her room who had kissed her and spoke of bedding her as his newly minted bride.

"I'm sorry you're so upset. I never meant for it to be this way. Stay in London a few days, please?" he asked.

"Harold, you should leave." she whispered and felt her cheeks heat up.

"You can stay at my house until your ship leaves. What we have to do with Felicity won't take longer than a day at most." he promised.

"What is it you have to do with Felicity?" she asked. Suddenly curious about this strange turn of events.

"It's nothing that concerns you." he said sadly.

"She's my sister." Olivia told him.

Harold looked troubled.

"Felicity," he said in a tragic sort of voice. "she's always been different. I'm sure you've noticed that."

"Yes. She's very high spirited." Olivia offered.

"We have to make plans for Felicity." Harold confessed.

"What do you mean?" Olivia asked. "For school?"

"No, not for school."

Olivia didn't understand.

"She has these moments." Harold told her. "It's important to keep her sheltered."

"I don't understand." Olivia told him.

"Felicity... Eames doesn't want her to leave Blue Rivers." Harold said with some difficulty. "I've convinced him to send her to a place in Town. Just for a little while."

"You're sending her away?" she asked.

"Yes." Harold told her sadly.

"I've barely met my only sister, my only blood link to my mother, and you want to send her away?"

She shook her head. This wasn't what she wanted for her sister. How could Harold do such a thing? Why would he send Felicity away? There was nothing wrong with her. She was just like any other teenage girl with too much freedom and money. Surely they didn't think a boarding school at her age would do any good.

"Olivia, it's complicated." Harold sighed.

"It's not." Olivia said feeling tears bloom in her eyes. "It's not complicated at all."

~ Felicity woke up to voices. Muffled voices coming from the next room. They were not as clear as the voices the entered her mind during her bad spells. Those voices were like little black birds who perched on her shoulder and squawked hateful things to her.

'_Mother died because of you. Papa never loved you. Harold hates you. Olivia is going to take your place, Julian used you.'_ the black birds cawed at her.

She pressed her ear to the wall and heard the voices saying her name.

"Harold, Felicity's just young, she'll grow out of it." Olivia was saying.

"No, it's past that." Harold's voice was sharp. "We've made arrangements for her to go tonight."

Felicity felt her blood run cold. Everything the black birds had told her was true. They didn't love her. They were going to send her away and forget about her.

She backed away from the wall, hating the cage of Blue Rivers now. She hated Papa and Harold and most of all, Olivia. She would kill her before she ever accepted her as Harold's wife and her sister-in-law.

The hatred she felt for the whole of her family was so bitter and sour, she almost vomited.

Instead, the air felt tight and claustrophobic.

"I won't go." she whispered. "I won't go."

She was quick to throw open her closet and locate her traveling bag and necessary papers. Money was not the problem for her Harold always thought it was. She wasn't nearly as frivolous with cash as he believed. She spent her money, but was quick to forget she even had any. Often calling her brother in a panic to ask for more and never realizing she had hundreds of dollars in the beaded evening bag she kept for emergencies.

She counted out enough cash to take her almost anywhere she wanted, finished packing her light bag and left Blue Rivers without notice.

The path that lead to the train station wasn't used as much since cars had become more popular and Felicity enjoyed a nice walk.

She had time to change her mind and go back home. Plead her case to the men who hated her and wanted her gone.

"No." she whispered to the black crows who flew around her head. "No, I'll go and stay with Philipa and then I'm off to America. I'm almost of age now. Papa can't tell me what to do."

She bought a ticket to London, and had plenty of time to make a getaway before Harold, still too enamored with Olivia, even noticed she was gone.


	26. Chapter 26

26.

~ Arthur hated almost everything in life, but he hated this trip most of all. He thought the staff on the _Bremen _looked at him with distaste and the feeling was mutual. The _Bremen_ was, by chance in New York and would be docking in Paris. It was also the fastest ship on the globe, despite the conspicuous Nazi flag that flew on the jackstaff. It's crew and most her passengers were sympathetic to the radicals that was taking over Germany.

Still, it would reach Europe in less than four days at the rate she flew across the Atlantic, and that was worth the discomfort of being on a German boat.

Arthur stayed in his first class quarters and away from the rest of the crew and passengers. The talk of war and Hitler making him uneasy.

~ "You've never been very social on these trips, dear." Ariadne whispered to him that night. "Remember on _Mauritania_, you wanted to stay locked up in our cabin all day long.

Arthur felt his body relax as his dream of her became full and very real.

"I had good reason to want to stay in our cabin all night long." he laughed and Ariadne smiled shyly.

"What is it that's bothering you? Aside from Olivia proving she's her mother's daughter and running away from home.

Arthur ran a hand up her bare shoulder and loved the way she smelled. The rich, heavenly smell of subtle, expensive perfume. Of clean scented bath water. Everything that he loved about his convenient wife.

"I worry about the world our daughter is going to have to live in." he admitted. "The sooner I get her married to a nice gentleman and settled back In America, the better."

"What if she's already found a gentleman and want's to stay in England?" Ariadne teased. His convenient wife resting her chin on his chest and her dark eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Nonsense. Olivia is too shy to go out and meet young men." Arthur said as his fingers found her dark hair.

"You thought she was too shy to run away from home, and how do you even know she's gone to see Eames?" Ariadne asked.

"Because, _madam_, your ex-lover is the one person I don't want her to meet so naturally she must have found him." Arthur said coldly.

"Arthur, I want my girls together. Felicity needs to know her sister and vice versa. They need each other." Ariadne told him.

"Felicity. Eames' child?" Arthur questioned.

"My daughter." Ariadne said sternly. "There was a time when you would have taken care of Felicity as if she were your own."

"That time has passed, madam." Arthur told her. "I've kept my word to you." he said as Ariadne's night gown slipped off her small body and he relished the feel of her soft skin. His lips nipping at her breasts as he felt her breathing pick up. "I've raised Olivia like my own. Loved her like my own. I've kept my word to you that I would never let anyone know why we got married."

"I know." she whispered back. "I wish things could have been different."

"No one wished that more than I do." he said in a horse whisper as his need for her became more intense. "If you hadn't have chosen Eames, you would still be alive. It's his fault you died of the flu. We would have gone back to America, had other children in our home-"

"If you hadn't left me... I never would have been with Eames in the first place." she interrupted. "I loved you, Arthur, but we can't change the past now can we?"

Arthur woke up in his empty state room. The German boat with the Nazi flag speeding toward Europe where he hoped he would find his daughter.

~ Felicity fell asleep on the train to London. She couldn't explain why she was so tired. It had been a long day for her already and she was starting to thing she was making a mistake in leaving.

"Problems?" a lady in a dove grey traveling dress asked.

Felicity picked her head up and realized that she and the woman were alone in the first class train car. Night was falling and her father and Harold must know she was gone already.

She wiped a unladylike dribble of saliva from her mouth and tried to act normal.

"Traveling is so exhausting." The young woman said as she sat across from her. She handed Felicity a cotton Handkerchief with a large **A** stitched on it in red.

"Yes." Felicity said and wondered if she had missed her stop.

"Are you going to London?" the lady asked as she didn't appear to have any luggage. Only a large, fluffy hat that was too big and awkward for such a petite young woman. It was also woefully out of date.

"Yes. London. Yes." Felicity said as she realized she looked bedraggled in her skimpy summer dress.

"Going to see friends?" the young woman in the dove grey traveling dress asked when Felicity gave her back the handkerchief.

"No. Alone." Felicity said.

"Alone? No husband or brothers to meet you? That's not very safe." The young woman said.

"I'll be fine."

"When I was a newlywed, I wandered around London to a book shop. By poor husband was so cross because it was in a seedy party of the city. Back then, it was all a bit run down." she said and placed her ridiculous hat back on her head.

"I'm going to Paris soon enough. I have friends there." Felicity said.

"That's good." The young woman said and looked out the window. "This is my stop coming up."

She stood and Felicity noticed her large brown eyes and dark hair as if for the first time.

"Do I... do I know you?" she asked and the young woman smiled.

"You know, we all have troubles, but they never last forever. Look after yourself." she said and patted Felicity on the back.

Felicity stood and watched the young woman in the dove grey suit depart before a loud train whistle woke her up at Kings Cross station.

~ Harold felt perfectly content when he woke up next to Olivia. Her cheeks were pink from the short nap they had enjoyed next to each other.

He watched her sleeping and was amused that she slightly snored and her eyes batted back and forth under her lids as she dreamed.

They had talked for a long time about Felicity, Eames, her childhood with her own father, Ariadne, and all that they ever suspected about why she chose Eames. Olivia didn't want Felicity to go tried to convince him that with more structure, like that of a careful, older sister in her life, she might do better. Harold wished he could agree, but Dr. Yuseff would be here for supper to take his sister for treatment. Nothing could cover up the fact that Felicity, despite her beauty and imagination, was a murderer.

Olivia didn't seem to want Harold to leave her that morning and he was reluctant to part from her as well. A childish worry crept over him that if he were to lose sight of his cherished Olivia, she would vanish from his world forever. The stories Felicity would tell him as a little girl about never letting fairies out of your sight because that was when they vanished, made him keep careful guard over Olivia.

They talked and kissed lightly. Eventually getting more comfortable on her large bed. Their faces pressed close together as he breathed in the smell of her bath soap and she slowly nodded off. They didn't partake in anything unseemly, Olivia was too much a well bred lady and he respected that. But the aspect of being in bed with her was deliciously forbidden.

He realized he loved her. Knew it as surly as he knew there was breath in his lungs and blood and bones in his body that she was always meant for him. That he had loved her, waited for her almost all his life. That, even as children, he loved her.

Her heavy breathing gave one last exhale and her eyes opened slowly.

"Hello." he whispered to her as she fought to go back to sleep. Her cute little nose nestling into the fabric of his clothing.

She attempted to hide her smile from him. Her shyness at being in the same bed, both of them fully clothed and innocent to any wrong doings, made his heart expand with deeper fondness for her.

"What time is it?" she said and he felt her arms lace around his body as her warm, slight form melded closer to him.

"Late" he told her. "We've been talking most of the morning and sleeping for the rest of the afternoon."

"Hmm." she said and threatened to go back to sleep.

"Olivia?" he whispered and kissed her closed eyes.

"Yes?" she said half in and out of dreams.

"Will you marry me?" he asked.

"Of course." she said and fell back asleep again.


	27. Chapter 27

27.

~ Harold was grateful Ariadne had been the type of woman who was respectful to her second husband's first wife. She hadn't been the jealous type; women like Ariadne seldom were, and she lovingly preserved all of his real mother's things in a steamer trunk in the attic for him.

He looked over the large wedding portrait of Fredrick Hays to Amelia. Their victorian clothing; pompous and ridiculous now. His mother looked too young and innocent to the world to be marrying her childhood sweetheart. Harold felt a pain go off in his heart at the knowledge that this pretty young woman would be dead a year after her lavish wedding.

He looked over the yellowed newspaper clipping of their engagement, wedding, his birth and her death. Ariadne had added a loose clipping of his father's engagement and marriage to her, as well as his death. He looked over his father's medals from the war and knew that, even though he remembered little of Fredrick Hays, he was a good man.

He finally found what he was looking for. A small box hidden in the bottom of the trunk that contained his mother's engagement and wedding rings. Ariadne had made sure he had them to give to his own bride someday.

He expected the diamond to be a little bigger and was disappointed it was so old fashioned. His father had been a young man, barely starting out in life and couldn't afford an expensive ring. He hoped Olivia wouldn't think it was too small. She was girl who was spoiled by her father and used to very nice things. He could see that from her finely made clothing and expensive jewelry she wore so casually.

~ Olivia heard Harold come back into her room and she roused herself awake.

'_It had been a dream._' she told herself. '_A wonderful dream where he asked me to be his wife and I said yes as if it were nothing_.'

"Did I fall asleep?" she whispered as she felt oddly more rested than she ever did in her life.

"We both did." he said with a shy smile and crawled back into bed next to her.

"We feel asleep in the same bed together?" Olivia croaked worriedly and realized she didn't even care. She wanted to sleep with him forever.

"Nothing happened." he laughed and his hand went protectively to his breast pocket. He looked nervous.

"I know." she whispered.

"I told you I wasn't interested in taking anyone to my bed other than my bride on our wedding night. I know it's horribly conventional of me." he said with a forced laugh.

"It's alright. I'm very conventional to." she mummered and wondered why he wouldn't look at her.

Harold swallowed hard and his hand fished something out of his breast pocket.

"What's wrong?" she whispered.

"Nothing." he said quickly. "It's just... if you don't like this..."

She saw the ring, it's stone flashing hot and knowingly at her.

"It... I thought I dreamed it." she whispered and felt all the air leave the room.

"The stone is a lot smaller than I remember. It was my mothers-"

"Oh, Harold." she gasped and felt ready to cry. It was true. He had asked her to marry him and she said yes. He was giving her a ring to wear on her left hand and she would be his wife. She would have him forever and they could always be like this.

"If you don't like it... we can get another ring." he was trying to say as she wanted that ring on her finger right away.

"Harold." she sobbed as she took the ring, his mother's ring, a family heirloom that meant he really loved her, and slipped it on.

She loved this ring more than the pearls her father gave her for her birthday. More than the diamond star pin he gave her for graduation, or the ruby earrings she got when she was introduced into society. She loved this ring more than any woman ever loved any jewelry because it was proof Harold loved her and that she would be his wife.

"It's alright? We can get another if you don't like it." Harold was saying in a clumsy, insecure voice that didn't fit him at all."

"Shut up, Harold." Olivia said and couldn't seem to stop kissing him.

~ Eames was surprised that Harold didn't meet Yuseff at the door and relied on Mills to let the fussy, effeminate doctor in.

Yuseff took the liberty of looking around the grand foyer of Blue Rivers. Lady Percy's intimidating portrait no doubt stirring fear into his heart as the old crone glared at him from her perch. It was a legacy the old woman would have been proud of; to watch over all who entered Blue Rivers with scorn. Even in death, she guarded the house well.

"So very pleased to meet you, sir." Yuseff said as the grumpy writer refused to shake his hand. Eames once loved meeting people from other countries, but in his old age, his prejudices ran high. He distrusted the doctor who didn't bother to dress well enough to enter a grand home and meet with the family there.

"I've been a fan of yours for years." Yuseff said as the fussy doctor placed his hands in his pockets and tried not to look embarrassed.

"Oh?" Eames said hatefully. "You enjoy romance novels and children's books?"

"From a purely phycological point of view, it's fascinating." Yuseff said. "The knight is an honorable man, a man who is no saint that's true, but when he is tempted by the witch, he loses whatever goodness he once had. He lets his love for the witch bring him down and as a result, causes the king, his best friend, to shun and hate him forever. It's a intriguing concept about the evils of giving into temptation and the effects that are never truly forgotten. It must have been an interesting subject matter for you to think about."

"Harold!" Eames shouted at the stairs. He disliked Yuseff and his maddening insight right now. He wasn't sure he wanted to place his Felicity into the doctor's care no matter how brilliant he may be.

"Also there are the children's stories. They are forever in a world where times stands still? Where time has no meaning in a special place and the chosen few in it remain young and perfect forever? The rest of the world goes on, but the children are forever children. It speaks volumes about the desire to keep children innocent as long as we can." Yuseff went on.

"Harold, come down!" Eames bellowed again.

"I have to wonder if you wanted to keep your own children child like. If that's why you wrote the books." Yuseff was saying. "I've my own theories about the knight and the witch. We've all heard about men who love and hate a woman. It's natural to curse and love a creature that turns our world so upside down."

"HAROLD!" Eames shouted.

"I'm here!" Harold was saying as the young man was racing out of the upstarts hallway and to the large foyer.

"About time." Eames grumbled as he wondered why the young man was so rushed looking, and why he was striating his clothes and hair.

Harold was normally very well dressed without a wrinkle on his well kept suits. He was like Arthur that way and Eames noticed his suit had deep creases in it like he had slept fully dressed.

"Doctor Yuseff is here." Eames said darkly. "He's very insightful, perhaps you can talk to him about that."

"I will." Harold said out of breath. "First, we have a more pressing matter to attend to."

"What is that?" Eames asked dryly.

"Well... Felicity... she's not in her rooms. Olivia has the staff looking for her right now, but her room was a mess and there seems to have been a bag packed."

"WHAT?" Eames barked with all the fire of a rabid dog. "Where is she?"

"I'm not sure." Harold said as Yuseff took in this new family drama.

"Did the young lady know I was coming? Perhaps she detests guests." he asked helpfully.

"Find her!" Eames roared. "Mills!"

"Sir, it's already dark and she might have walked to the train station earlier today. She's done it before. We can simply call her friends in London and see if she's there. We'll send Mills to go and get her." Harold said sadly.

Eames turned to Yuseff.

"Leave, sir. We won't be needing your services."

"It seems as if you need my services now more than ever." Yuseff offered.

"Let me be clear, sir, you strike me as a man who only wants to write a scandal book about the daughter of C.R. Eames. I won't have it. My daughter is a spoiled brat and nothing more."

Eames turned to Harold. A rage in his eyes.

"And where were you today when my daughter was running away from home?" he snarled.

**Sorry I haven't updated in a few days. Had to do a re-write. Hate that. Have a new story idea that is driving me CRAZY! Ariadne is the only child to a billionaire and Arthur is hired to be her personal bodyguard. **


	28. Chapter 28

28.

~ Harold placed the phone back in it's cradle. Dovie Lewis was still of no help and seemed more interested in the gossip that Julian Hunt and Felicity Eames had run away together.

It was in all the papers now. Wealthy playboy from American sweeps English writer's daughter off her feet and the two had presumably eloped together. Their families have no idea where the two well known, attractive young people were and there was even a reward for their safe return.

Julian's brother had come to Blue Rivers the day after Felicity vanished looking for him. Once Harold and Olivia started making calls about Felicity's whereabouts, the rumor mill started in full force. It was only a matter of time before the whispered gossip made it to the papers.

C.R. Eames' reputation only added fuel to the fire that Felicity was fresh enough to run away with a young man she barely met.

Harold let the rumors grow. He did little to stop them, because the truth was too unthinkable to face. How could he explain the she hadn't run away with Julian, she had killed him?

In the three days since his sister's disappearance was made public, the so called press had done large pictorials and horrible articles of the wayward couple. Complete with a lovely American girl in tears over Julian leaving her for the 'fast' Felicity Eames.

"Not exactly how you wanted to spend the first week of our engagement." came the only welcomed voiced he had heard these days.

Harold saw his bride-to-be standing in the doorway of the library. She looked poised and splendid as always in a light brown skirt and sleeveless summer blouse. Her face concerned as she held the latest newspapers in her arms. No doubt they contained the lurid gossip about Felicity and Julian being spotted in some far away country.

"That was Mr. and Mrs. Hunt. Calling all the way from their summer home in the Hamptons." Harold said.

"Impressive." Olivia said.

"Yes, it seems they blame Felicity for bewitching their son into running away with her. They seem to think they are in South America and are on their way to bring him home. They even said Julian will be disowned if he married her." Harold said.

"Felicity told me she and Julian were done, but I guess they reconciled." Olivia said sadly. "I just think there could have been a better way to do this than running away."

"You ran away from home." Harold pointed out.

"Yes, and look where it got me! I'm engaged to a dashingly handsome man who loves me, worries about his sister, looks after his step father and who values everyone else happiness more than his own." she said smartly.

Harold grinned at his future wife. She knew just how to make him feel better.

"I know it's not the engagement you wanted." he whispered.

"It's the man I wanted." she whispered back.

He clasped her hand in his and kissed her engagement ring.

"We just have to trust than Felicity and Julian will come to their senses soon and we can put all this ugliness behind us." she said with a steel he wasn't used to seeing in her. Since he had giver her his mother's ring, since Felicity vanished, Olivia had become different. She was bolder and more self confident in a way he liked.

When Eames tried rebelliously to hide in his conservatory, it was Olivia who managed to pry him out again and make him stay in the world of the living.

When the phone was ringing non-stop with questions about the scandal, it was Olivia who handled reporters questions with a mastery he envied.

"Harold?" she said at last when he was about to reach for the phone again.

She looked uncomfortable.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's just, with all that's happening with Felicity and Julian running away together, I've been here at Blue Rivers almost two weeks now. I've gotten engaged and... well, my poor father doesn't even know I'm here. I need to call him, explain what happening. Tell him about you." she said meekly.

Harold felt his blood run cold.

_Arthur_.

How could he have not thought about her father? A formidable man who would not doubt be furious his only daughter had gotten engaged to a man she barely knew in a strange country that he didn't know she was even in.

"Right." he said and tried to control his irrational fear. Arthur Bradford was a tyrant in business and it was a wonder what his wife, Ariadne, ever saw in him. He was in the press about his hostile take overs and how he used the stock market crash to his advantage to make even more money. He managed to save many jobs for the lower classes, but he also ousted some of the top executives in the process. This made him an efficient business man, but hated among his peers.

"You should call him. Talk to him first." he said nervously and stood up to let Olivia have use of the phone.

"I already called the house yesterday and the day before that." Olivia said worriedly. It seems he's been out both times. He's mostly likely cross at me and taking it out on work." she said.

"How would he feel when he finds out about us?" Harold asked and worried if Arthur Bradford was a violent man.

"I think daddy will love you." Olivia said and stepped closer to Harold. Her slender hands going to his face and kissing him sweetly.

"I hope so. Because I have no intention of letting you go." he whispered.

"We might take a page out of Julian and Felicity's book and just run away." she teased.

Harold didn't answer right away and Olivia sensed she had said something wrong.

"Harold, I'm sure she's fine. She's a girl in love and she wants to be with the man she loves. Don't worry about her reputation." she whispered.

"I'm not." Harold said darkly.

Olivia kissed him with that same sweetness that seemed to nourish him to health.

"How's Eames?" he asked.

"Still angry." she said sadly. Cursing the day he even met our mother." she sighed.

"Very nobel of him to blame a dead woman for his own failings as a parent." Harold snapped.

"Harold, he doesn't know what to do. He feels like he lost his daughter." Olivia explained.

"I'm sure your father will be just as angry with you for running away to." Harold told her.

"Let me handle daddy. I'll talk to him about us when the time is right." she told him.

"Olivia, it's important to me that we not go against your father. He loves you and I would never disrespect the man like that. I want his approval and his blessing." Harold said.

"Is that why you've refused to share a bed with me until after the wedding?" she asked. A disappointed look in her eyes.

"Yes." he told her in a hushed voice.

"We've spent hours in bed before we were even engaged, remember?" she teased.

"Yes, but you and I both know that if we're in the same bed together we won't be sleeping." he whispered and stole a kiss.

She giggled.

"I hope not, sir." she said and escaped his grasp.

~ Eames knew Arthur was at Blue Rivers long before Mills announced it. He felt the atmosphere shift to make room for his nemesis, his rival, his only real friend who was still living.

The old writer had wandered out of his conservatory and to the large foyer to see a shiny blue car pull into the drive.

He could hear Olivia and Harold talking in the library. The door shut and her happy giggles making him hate the couple with a new passion.

He had seen the engagement ring on Olivia's finger. Saw the look in both their eyes even as his own world was crumbling. He could care less what the papers said about Felicity, he just wanted her back home.

He had written a rare plea to his daughter in the public forum to come home. He kept the whole thing vague so that she would understand his meaning and no one else would. He had said he wasn't angry about what happened with Julian.

In truth, he could care less about her killing a man. It rather impressed him and he felt the world was more interesting when you added a fatal female to the mix.

They would go away until all this business with Hitler was over.

He just wanted his daughter home even as he wished he had never come to know Ariadne.

He watched the shinny blue car pull up and a stranger arrogantly climb out as if he owned this house.

He'd know Arthur's car even without seeing the man. He was always making a show of his automobiles. Thinking such a thing would impress total strangers. Added to the fact that Arthur still looked good in spite of the fact over fifteen years had passed since Eames had last seen him.

Arthur was still slender and well groomed. His suit fitting him perfectly without so much as a wrinkle on it. His hair was greying, but not as much as Eames' had. He also didn't walk with a limp like Eames did or have unsightly weight that made him layer his clothing to hide it.

Eames nodded to Mills to let the mysterious stranger into Blue Rivers and he finally came face to face with Arthur Bradford.

Let Arthur discover his precious Olivia was with Harold here. Let her try and explain a sudden engagement to a near stranger with so many ghosts of the past floating around them.


	29. Chapter 29

29.

~ Arthur was surprised that Blue Rivers had changed so little. He half expected Ariadne to come racing out of the front door asking him what had kept him away for so long.

It caused him physical pain at the idea of Ariadne living here. Of her memory still roaming the halls where they tried to start a life together. A life interrupted by Eames and his own selfish desire for her.

Blue Rivers was no more that a den of sin now. A place where his convenient wife had spent forbidden nights with her lover.

Arthur didn't even have to knock on the door before a spindly butler opened it for him.

"Mr. Eames was expecting you, Mr. Bradford." the worn little man said.

Arthur didn't give the staff much attention, but he saw that Mills looked pale and far too grey for a man his age. Although it was difficult to even determine his age now with his thinning hair and slumped posture.

He was about to ask after the man's health when the worst creature in the world spoke to him.

"Lovely to see you again, darling." Eames said from his perch by the window. "Interesting choice of a car. Were they all sold out of red and you had to settle for blue? It's a shame."

"Eames." Arthur said coldly as the butler stepped away.

He was stunned to see his cousin. The years had not been kind to him. He was fatter and it didn't agree with him at all. His face looked bloated and his clothing were wrinkled, layered on and out of style.

He bettered resembled one of the hobo's depicted on the news film than master of a house.

Still, Arthur could tell by the glint in his eyes, he was the same Eames.

"I believe you know why I'm here." Arthur said sternly as he pushed away any sympathy he might had held for Eames and his decline after Ariadne's death.

"You could have called first. Given me the chance to clean up." Eames said sourly.

"And have you try to help Olivia escape?" Arthur said darkly. "Where is she?"

"Olivia?" Eames questioned as if searching his memory. "Doesn't ring a bell."

"Eames." Arthur said an a warning tone.

"You remember Harold don't you?" Eames asked kindly. "Ariadne's step son. Grown into a very impressive you man. You would like him, I think. Shall I make the introductions?"

"Eames!" Arthur barked and felt ready to throttle his cousin.

Eames slowly stood and Arthur forgot he still walked with a cane.

'_When had Eames gotten so old?_' Arthur wondered vaguely.

"Where is Olivia?" he asked again.

"Harold?" Eames called. "Can you come out of the library for a moment?"

Eames was wearing a clever, manipulative smirk on his face that only meant he was up to no good.

"Will you be visiting Ariadne's grave?" he asked as Arthur was growing impatient.

"Eames, I've read in the papers what happened to your daughter." Arthur said.

The way his cousin's face fell, Arthur knew he had stuck a raw and painful nerve.

"I can certainly sympathize with you in worrying about your only daughter and why she ran away. What can happen to her in the world these days is scary. It must keep you awake at night." Arthur said with a false sweetness that he knew cut Eames to the bone.

"Well." Eames said in a whisper that was almost snake like. "That is the price we pay for rearing Ariadne's daughters isn't it? If we wanted perfect angels, we should have never fallen for their mother."

"Don't blame her!" Arthur barked. "Never blame Ariadne for this. All of this..." Arthur pointed a finger at Eames and felt his hate for the man boil over. "It's your fault. You've done this to Ariadne. If you had respected another man's wife, she would still be alive."

"Daddy?" came a weak, familiar voice.

Arthur turned to see his prized daughter standing beside a young man in a navy, pinstriped suit.

"Daddy, what are you doing here?" Olivia asked. Her eyes were as big as saucers and she looked worriedly at him.

Arthur first felt warm relief crash over his body at the sight of Olivia. She was safe and looked perfectly fine. He didn't care much for the sleeveless blouse she had on, but he would rectify that soon enough.

The second thing he felt was barely controlled anger.

"I could ask the same for you, Olivia." he said with visible restraint.

He paid no attention to the looks that Olivia and the young man by her side exchanged.

"It's time to go home. We can discuss why you did this on the ship. I've booked us passage back already." Arthur said.

"No."

Arthur turned and didn't understand what his daughter had just said.

"What?" he asked and stepped closer.

"I said no. I'm not going anywhere with you." Olivia said and stood a little straiter.

He saw it then. Saw the young man clasp her hand and give her some kind of strength. Olivia was a wonderful daughter, but she hardly ever defied him.

"Sir, I'm Harold Hays." the handsome young man said and offered Arthur his free hand.

Arthur ignored the offer of a handshake and stepped in between him and Olivia.

"Daddy, don't!" Olivia shouted as Arthur roughly grabbed her by the arm.

"Sir!" the young man said as Eames watched. "Sir, I need to speak with you about Olivia!"

"I have nothing to say to you, Mr. Hays." Arthur said as Olivia struggled against her father.

"Daddy! stop it!" she shouted and suddenly pulled herself free.

"Olivia, get in the car. We can send for you things later." Arthur growled. "I have no idea what Mr. Eames here has been telling you; I'm your father and you will obey me!"

"No!" Olivia shouted and Arthur felt the overwhelming urge to slap her across the face.

She was Ariadne's daughter. He could see it now, here at Blue Rivers, clearer than he ever saw it in New York.

"Olivia!" he whispered.

"Mr. Bradford. I'm Fredrick Hays' son." Harold was saying as he moved closer to Olivia and Arthur's daughter took the young man's hand and only glared at her father.

"I'm Ariadne's step son." Harold was saying again.

"Olivia." Arthur said and took a deep calming breath. "I won't be asking again. Get in the car."

"No." Olivia said.

"Sir?" Harold said helpfully. "May we talk in private? Just the two of us?"

"There is no need, we have nothing to discuss." Arthur bit back.

"Yes, you do." Olivia said and Arthur almost felt his heart rip free from his chest as she showed him a small, old fashioned diamond ring that could only mean an engagement.

He looked at Olivia with new eyes now as well as the young man by her side.

"What have you done, Olivia?" he whispered to his daughter.

"I came here to find out about mother. I met Harold, Mr. Eames and my sister. You never even told me I had a sister." Olivia said and he could tell she was near tears.

"Olivia, whatever lies Eames told you-"

"They weren't lies." Olivia said. "He told me the truth. How you divorced mother after the _Empress_ sank. How she remarried Harold's father. How during the war Eames was wounded and he and mother had an affair that resulted in Felicity. I know why you didn't tell me. I know you wanted me not to think badly about mother, but daddy, I needed to know!"

"Olivia, we can discuss this at the hotel while waiting for the ship to take us back home." Arthur said.

"No." Olivia said.

"You will not be staying here with this young man." Arthur whispered in a voice that had turned just as evil and snake like as Eames'.

His cousin seemed to be enjoying the domestic drama and smirked at Arthur's plight.

"I'm going to marry him. Harold is a fine man with a good standing in the community. He does charitable work for the villages in the area and he loves me." Olivia said and stood a little straiter.

Her arm laced around the young man's and they looked a striking couple.

Arthur glared at the man who had so easily and quickly turned his daughter against him.

"I know this is not what you would have liked, sir." Harold said. "Believe me, it's not how I wanted to do this. I wanted to ask your permission before anything. It's how I was raised and I respect the fact you're her father and-"

"Be quite!" Arthur shouted at the young man.

"Daddy!" Olivia shouted back. "Don't talk to him like that."

"You will not be getting married." Arthur said darkly. "You couldn't have known him for more than a week at best. You will not be so stupid as to ruin yourself to a man you just met!"

He turned to Eames.

"No offense with regard to your daughter." he snarled.

"Oh, none taken. Only a fool would marry someone they just met." Eames said. His voice full of deadly venom.

Arthur sensed that Eames was capable of telling Olivia the horrible truth about her real father and why Ariadne married him in the first place that odd September day back in 1912.

"Sir, may we please speak in private?" Harold was saying.

"No." Arthur said sternly. "Olivia, you will not marry this man. You will get in the car this instant or you will be cut off without a cent!"

He looked at the young man then. Certain he would see a look of horror in his face at the idea of no heavy dowry for marrying Olivia Bradford: wealthy society from New York and heiress to a large fortune.

He was surprised to see a certain look of sympathy in the young man's eye as he held Olivia's hand and kissed it.

"I don't care." Olivia breathed. Tears running freely now.

"Penniless. You'll have nothing." Arthur reiterated.

"I do very well for myself, sir. I have the means to marry." Harold was saying. "I've a proper home in London and I've established a career in publishing with Mr. Eames here as my top client."

"Olivia! get int he car! I'm you're father, and you will not defy me!" Arthur shouted with so much rage, Harold positioned himself in front of his daughter. Clearly fearful she might be hurt in Arthur's furry.

"I've been with him!" Olivia shouted and Arthur took a step back. His breathing coming hard.

"I've _been_ with Harold. A few days ago and every night since. It's why we got engaged so quickly; I might be pregnant and he wants to do the honorable thing!" she cried.

Harold was breathing hard and looked worriedly at Arthur.

Arthur felt his heart break as his daughter, the precious baby he held just hours after her birth was a fallen, soiled woman now.


	30. Chapter 30

30.

~ This is not how I wanted this to be, Olivia." Harold said hotly as she tried to calm herself down. The young couple had removed themselves from the foyer. Harold pulling her away as Arthur flew into a rage she had never seen.

Eames remembered his manners long enough to guide Arthur to the library, as both parties needing time.

Her father was always a very stern man and it took a great deal of courage to stand up to him the way she had done. A thing that Harold didn't seem to understand or appreciate.

Her fiancé seemed angry with what she had said, and she felt that deep, plunging fear that they were going to fight about it.

"What would you have me do, Harold?" she asked as she sat on her bed and he closed the door to give them some privacy.

"Do you want me to just blindly do as he says?" she asked as he started to pace anxiously around the room.

"No, Olivia." he said bitterly. "What I wanted, what I've always wanted, was to speak to the father of my bride with honorable intentions. To be in that library and tell him how much I love his daughter." He held up one finger, then two. "How much I respect him as a man and that I could provide well enough for us to be happy. I wanted a respectable talk with the man, not one that involved deflowering the woman I love before there was even a whisper of an engagement. Now, your father thinks I'm the lowest of men, Olivia. How could you think that was the smart thing to do?"

"If he thinks we've been together, then he will have to let us get married. He's too respectable to have a daughter take a lover and not be married." Olivia snapped as tears started to flood her eyes.

"Olivia, this is the worst lie you could have told him." Harold said angrily. "If you have difficulties standing up to the man, that's fine. I understand that; Arthur is very intimidating."

He stopped his frustrated pacing and looked at her with scorn.

"But we've started our engagement based on a lie." he said sourly and then refused to look at her.

She felt the tears swim treacherously out of her eyes.

He was right. This was the worst thing she could have done. Her father hated her now, Harold felt all his chivalry, all his gentlemanly courtship was wasted with that one, horrible lie.

"I wanted to talk to him man to man. I wanted him to approve of me. Now, he'll hate me forever." Harold sighed.

~ "Arthur, I know Harold. He's more honorable than any young man I have any right to know." Eames said as the two cousins adjourned to the library.

"I highly doubt that Olivia is the kind of girl to be with a man without a wedding. I think she lied to you to get you to approve of this engagement." Eames said in a rare attempt to comfort his old rival.

"I hardly know what Olivia is anymore." Arthur whispered bitterly. "She's lied to me, run away from home, sent me halfway around the world searching for her, only to see she's defied me, dishonored me and willingly put her reputation into the wind with this young man."

"A young man who you should be proud to have as your son in law." Eames added. "As for the other things, Olivia isn't a trained dog. You can't keep her on the leash forever."

Arthur glared at his cousin.

"No, Eames. I don't presume to keep my daughter on a leash. I do not, however, allow my only child liberty to do whatever the hell she pleases and not care about the consequences." Arthur sat a little straiter. "I've read all the articles about Felicity and I'm sorry to tell you that you have only yourself to blame for her behavior. If you had acted more like the parent she needed, or allowed me to take her back to America-"

"We're not talking about Felicity." Eames said coldly. "Let me handle my child my own way."

"I've seen how you handle it. You let the papers rip the poor girl to ribbons and then blame her dead mother. Ariadne deserved better than you." Arthur spat.

"What? A man like you? You think you could have made her happy? As I recall, cousin, she was always angry with you. When she was with me, she was happy." Eames said.

"She was afraid to be anything less than happy. She loved you and knew if she didn't keep your ego pampered and pacified, you would make some new dreary suicide attempt. You took advantage of a soft hearted, married, woman!" Arthur snarled.

Eames sat back in his chair and Arthur mirrored his movements. A standoff having been reached and each man unwilling to be the first to blink.

~ "I'll go downstairs and tell daddy I'll be going home with him." Olivia said softly.

She expected Harold to say something as she slipped off the engagement ring. Her skin feeling naked without the beloved jewelry.

She handed it back to him and was surprised he took it from her. His face sad as their hands made brief contact.

"I'm sorry I ruined your engagement, Mr. Hays." she whispered. "I'll tell daddy the truth. He most likely won't believe me." she sniffed back a sob as Harold turned away and refused to look her in the eyes.

"If you want to go back to America, Miss Bradford, I wish you a pleasant journey." he said stubbornly.

She wanted to scream at him.

Didn't he lover her? Didn't he want her to stay with him? She wanted him to give her back her ring. Tell her to stop being stupid and of course she was not allowed to go back to America as anything other than Mrs. Olivia Hays.

She wanted him to hold her and tell her that their would be a wedding and this was a silly fight. She wanted to cry in his arms and say she was sorry as he whispered kind, reassuring words to her.

Harold only put the ring back in his breast pocket and looked at the wall.

She held back her tears, straitened her back and went downstairs to her father.

_~ Australia ~_

~ Thaddeus Somerset was unloading the last of the cargo off the Steamer ship, The Beagle. It had been a long day he was hot, tired and ready to go home. His sister Nancy would no doubt have a gotten a good leg of lamb at the butcher and he could just picture it cooking in the the spartan, but cozy cottage they shared with his three kids.

Thaddeus' wife, Rebecca, had died two years ago during a bad winter. She had caught a chill that she couldn't seem to shake and there was no money for medicine with the children, and the depression and so little farm work to be had.

When she passed, his sister Nancy asked him and the children to move in with her. Since Thaddeus had two daughter in need of mothering and only one son who was barely out of nappies, he agreed.

His sister's home was good enough for the close knit family. Boys in one room. The girls in the other. Nancy had her bed pushed against the wall of the sitting room and it was comfortable, despite having so little.

"Rough trade, this one." one of the workers was saying. "Had a touch of typhoid fever making it's way among the passengers. Got a few in steerage they don't expect will make it."

"Right." Thaddeus nodded as he avoided a foul smell coming out of the steerage compartment. The sounds for vomiting and the smell of poorly maintained lavatories reached him and he was reminded of his Sunday school class on what hell might be like. Forget fire and brimstone. Hell was surely in the lower decks. A place full of people so sick, they had to go to the bathroom on themselves and had no one to clean them up.

He put his red handkerchief to his face to mask the smell and walked back down the plank to see a priest had already been called to assist the dead and dying.

"In the name of the father, the son and the holy ghost." the old man was saying and Thaddeus crossed himself quickly and took off his hat.

Men, women and children were laid out on the dock. Their faces pale and their bodied lifeless. These poor souls had succumbed to the fatal outbreak on the ship and were now being granted last rights before the mortuary took them. Hopefully, someone would claim their bodies. But this was a poor person ship. If she were a grand cruise liner, people would care about the lost ones laid out carefully on the dock.

As it was, they were nothing but penniless immigrants looking to buy cheap land in Australia. Now, they were gone and most likely left children orphaned and parents childless.

Thaddeus found himself looking at each face. Absorbing every detail as the other workers and onlookers walked away.

He looked at the faces of children, then the work hardened faces of the men. Finally the women. They were of all ages here. Young women dying just as easy as the old ones did.

His gaze finally fell on a painfully thin girl in an ill fitting summer coat. Her face looked out of place here.

Where the other women looked worn out, even in death. She looked as fresh as a rose petal. She looked exactly like snow white in a fairy tale and he was enchanted by the strangeness that such a beauty would be on that ship and that she would have slipped from life so easily.

He was watching her face as the priest sprinkled holy water on the group of other bodies. He almost didn't see it. Didn't see her eyes flutter and her lips part.

"Hey!" he shouted and practically jumped to the girl. "Hey! She's still alive!"

Panic ensued on the deck then as the ships doctor was called and the dead girls pulse was felt.

"We have to get her to the hospital." the exhausted doctor said as the girl moaned and gaped for water.

Thaddeus lifted her willowy body up in his arms and carried her to a nearby ambulance. It's driver anxious to be apart of saving a life everyone thought was lost.

He and the doctor sat with her on the drive. The doctor continually feeling her pulse as Thaddeus watched her slow, shallow breathing.

"I can't say she'll make it through this, son." the doctor said. "But at least she didn't have to die on the docks."


	31. Chapter 31

31.

~ "I'll be so happy to get this unpleasantness behind us." Arthur said as he looked over the sensible and lady like dresses he had a shop send to the hotel they were staying at.

They were still trapped in London as their ship was met with delays. A fact that irritated Arthur in his need to return to America as soon as possible.

Olivia had, apparently, borrowed some of Felicity's more fashionable clothing while at Blue Rivers. Blouses without sleeves, plunging necklines and other things he hated to see other women wearing. It made him grimace slightly to think that these were exactly the kinds of clothing Ariadne would have loved to wear.

As soon as he was able, he outfitted Olivia with new clothes. Back to her simple, classic looks of dresses that went past the knee. Blouses that never crept above the elbow. She was once more dressed like Arthur Bradford's daughter, and not some silly socialite.

When she had come back downstairs to tell him her engagement had suddenly ended, Arthur was relived but still suspicious. Olivia had told him she lied to him about having relations with that young man. Part of him believed her; only because he wanted to believe. The other part of him harbored the knowledge that she was Ariadne's daughter, and given to romantic urges just as easily as her mother was.

Still, he was pleased enough to have his daughter back with him. They left that very day. Arthur barely giving her enough time to pack a bag and say a brief goodbye.

"I know you must be very sad about Harold, dearest." Arthur said as his daughter ignored him and watched the people from their hotel room window. "But you'll see that this was all for the best. I was thinking we could stop over in Paris for the next few days, if you like. Maybe pick out a few new clothes. You'll be the trendy girl when you return to school this fall."

He was hopeful that Olivia would jump at the idea of a shopping trip to Paris. A new wardrobe would surely sooth any girls broken heart.

Olivia didn't even look at him, and kept her gaze fixed solely out the window.

The ship that Arthur had booked for them to go home in was delayed by almost a week now. In that time, it was all he could do too keep his daughter in the dark about Harold. To protect her from the temptation of going back to him.

Almost since they second they had left Blue Rivers, Harold had sent flowers, candy and even had the nerve to come to the hotel himself asking for Olivia.

Arthur had sent back the flowers, ripping up the notes unread, and thrown away the expensive chocolates. He had told the staff not to let any visitors bother them.

Just a few more days in London and they could board another boat to France and then to America. The sooner they were away from this Harold person with his idiotic idea of marrying Olivia, the better.

~ Olivia was watching a couple walking in the park below. They were young, obviously in love and foolish. The young man holding her hand so boldly, they seemed immune to the rest of the world. As if they were protected by some invisible force that repelled all the bad things in the world.

That was how it had been with Harold. She had felt so protected with him. Like nothing could harm her with Harold around. She used to feel that way about her father, but that seemed a very long time ago now. Now, she felt exposed to the harsh elements. "'m very glad you didn't give yourself to that young man. It was horrible to even think that you did." Arthur was saying as he joined her at the window. "I know how hard it must have been, he no doubt wanted you to and promised you marriage if you did."

"I was the one who wanted to, it was Harold who wanted to wait till after the wedding." she said numbly.

"Hmm." Arthur said doubtfully. His tone saying he was still skeptical. He was keeping things from her, she could tell. He answered the phone first, and never let her answer the door. He hadn't been very angry at her, but he was angry at something.

Still, she was too upset to care anymore.

Her heart had broken when Harold took the ring back and didn't demand she stay with him. Her fiancé, the man she thought loved her so well and with such perfection, let her leave Blue Rivers with her father and did nothing to stop it.

"I know you're angry with me." Arthur said. "But give it a year, you'll be better for it. In a few months, you won't even remember his name. I've been thinking a lot about what you and I talked about and I think it's time we find you a good husband. One that... will understands us." he explained.

Olivia fought the urge to cry.

Harold had understood her. Understood her and loved her. At least, she thought he did.

She was pulled from her thoughts by the phone ringing.

"It never ends." Arthur grumbled and stalked away from the window and to his little office he was using i the hotel room.

Olivia sighed and wandered away from her window.

Her father's business was always calling him away. It was the one thing that took precedence over her. He always made time for his work.

She almost didn't hear the faint tapping on the front door of the hotel suite. Her father was barking in the phone.

"Send them back. I don't care what the delivery boys says." he was snapping at whomever was unlucky enough to be on the other line.

The knocking on the door was heard again and Olivia wondered if she should answer it or not. Her father had been responding to all the phone calls and deliveries from room service lately. He didn't let her open the door at all.

She decided he was obviously too busy, and that she was competent enough to let in room service herself. She wasn't exactly in mourning or confinement.

She opened the door, fully expecting the smartly dressed server when she was greeted by-

"Harold?" she breathed.

"I had to see you." her former fiancé breathed as he took hold of her hand and pulled her out into the hall. Quietly shutting the door behind them.

"Harold, what are you doing here?" Olivia hissed as she drank in the sight of him.

"I've been trying to call you. I've been sending you flowers and candy. Your father keeps sending everything back. Olivia, I'm sorry for what happened." Harold almost cried and he grasped her hands in his.

"Harold." Olivia gasped as she had never seen him like this. He looked disheveled and worn out.

"I..." she gasped before he started kissing her.

"The moment you left Blue Rivers, I knew I had made a mistake." he whispered as he finally let her come up for air. "I just had this ridiculous fantasy in my mind that your father would approve of me. That he would give you away at our wedding. But I want you, I don't give a damn about what he wants."

Olivia had to pull away from him. The smell of his cologne and aftershave brought wonderful memories of Blue Rivers back to her. Of him showing her the house and library. Of walking in the gardens, ridding in his car. Sleeping in the same bed.

"Harold." she managed to say at last. "I thought you didn't want to marry me"

"I was angry. Please, forgive me. I could never be happy in this life without you, Olivia. It's always been you. Don't you see that? It's always been you, for me."

Olivia felt her heart swell at these words. Harold's blue eyes were flashing with sincerity and longing that she wanted nothing more than to drown in them forever.

"I'm sorry I lied." Olivia whispered. "I thought that my father would allow us to marry if he thought..."

"If he thought I had spoiled you." Harold said and she saw the faint glimmer of humor in his eyes.

She nodded as her eyes swam with tears.

"I know that you're a gentleman, Harold." she sniffed as his large hands ran over her own. "I know that you wanted a perfect engagement with no complications."

"My whole life has been complicated." he smiled. "But it will be better with your help."

She smiled ruefully at him.

"Would we live in Blue Rivers? If I decided to marry you?" she asked. Her tone the same as a child making a bargain.

"No. We would have to live in London. My work is there." Harold told her.

"What about Eames? Who will take care of him now that Felicity has run off?" she asked.

"I'm not worried about Eames anymore. I've got a bride to care for now." he said.

Harold looked at her worriedly.

"I do have a bride to care for, don't I?" he asked.

She bit her lip so he wouldn't see her smile.

"Can I have my ring back?" she asked.

He was grinning like a school boy when his hand fished in his breast pocket and pulled free her ring.

"I need to speak to your father." he whispered as he kissed her hand.

"Don't expect him to approve." she warned.

"I don't." he told her and looked sad for a moment.

"Harold. I'm going to marry you with or without his blessing." she assured him.

"Olivia. There is something you need to know. It's about Felicity and Julian." he sighed and held her hands in his.

She sensed something very serious was happening and listened to him.

Harold opened his mouth to say something but seemed to quickly lose his nerve.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I... I should speak to your father." he said at last.


	32. Chapter 32

32.

~ The sooner Arthur was out of London, the better. Olivia hated him now, he could tell. The decision to leave Blue Rivers had ultimately been hers, but he sensed she would blame him for a long time.

Now, he had to contend with Harold sending roses and little notes to the hotel suite in an attempt to get her back. Young men were all the same. They only saw Arthur's fortune and the fact that Olivia would eventually be the sole heiress to a large amount of money. It wasn't that he didn't like Harold, but marriage was a long and complicated business arrangement that had little to do with love.

Ariadne had understood that when she married him. Understood that their arrangement had to be mutually beneficial. She had made him into a relatable man who investors could trust. In return, he had provided well for her and her daughter.

Things were so much more simple with Ariadne. His memories conveniently forgetting all the fights they had, how stubborn she was, and how much he had loved her.

He sighed and sat down in a comfortable chair, wishing for the hundredth time he could talk to her. Just to see her for a few hours and get her opinion on what to do about Olivia. She was always capable of such insightful arguments.

"Sir?" came an unwelcome interruption.

Arthur looked up to see the interloper, Harold, standing there.

"What are you doing here? Where's Olivia?" Arthur growled and stood.

"She's in the sitting room. I need to speak with you." Harold said and invited himself into the little office that not even Olivia would dare to enter.

"We said enough at Blue Rivers. Don't you have Mr. Eames to attend to as well as a sister to find?" Arthur asked. Always willing to put salt in the wound of Felicity's disappearance.

"Yes, sir." Harold said and took the chair opposite Arthur. "I have many matters to oversee, so I'll keep this brief."

Arthur glared at Harold, hating the young man's self confidence.

"First, it important you know I was never with Olivia. She lied about that to force you to let us marry. It was wrong of her, and short sighted. I would never disrespect a man's only daughter that way." Harold said hurriedly.

"She told me she was less than honest." Arthur said stiffly. "I'm not sure what I believe about what's been happening at Blue Rivers. Under Eames' roof, anything can occur."

"Well, _that_ never happened. I want you know know my intentions have always been honorable." Harold told him.

Arthur said nothing and only glared at the young man.

"You don't remember me... I was young when mother took us to New York to see Mr. Cobb and his wife. I met you-"

"I remember." Arthur snapped. "You were a very well behaved boy."

"You talked to me about becoming a business man. I admired you very much." Harold confessed. "The way mother would look at you, it was different from how she would look at Eames."

"How so?" Arthur asked. Suddenly he was very curious about how an outsider perceived his relationship with Ariadne.

"With Eames, she looked at him like a lovable stray dog who needed to be rescued and taken care of. A thing that she loved, surely, but she looked at you with more passion. More like contentment than sympathy." Harold told him.

Arthur sat back a little.

"I was so inspired by that, it changed who I became. See, I wanted to marry a young lady who was just like mother. Someone who was so caring and thoughtful to others. Who was smart and not afraid to speak her mind. I've known since early childhood that I loved Olivia." Harold said and meet Arthur in the eye.

"A lot of men have loved Ariadne. She has that affect on them." Arthur grumbled. "Just like a lot of men will love Olivia because of her inheritance."

"I think you need to give your daughter more credit, sir." Harold said sharply.

Arthur scowled at the arrogance of youth.

"I've done well enough for myself in publishing. I have my own press to cut costs, and I've been in talks to merge with another company in America. If it's successful, I'll be very well off. Mr. Eames is my best writer so far. He still sells very well, but I also have two hundred other clients on my books who are selling. I can afford to marry your daughter, sir. I have a home for her and we can have staff. I know I'm a long way away from your standing in business, sir, but I don't need your money."

Harold stood and Arthur, not to be outdone, stood as well.

"What I wanted, was your blessing. I love your daughter, very much. She had agreed to marry me and we certainly don't need your permission to do so."

"Harold?" Arthur questioned. Even he was surprised that his voice was not strict and sever as always.

"Yes, sir?" Harold asked cautiously.

"You insulted Mr. Eames. Did Ariadne not love him? Do you think?" Arthur asked hopefully.

"She loved you, sir. God knows why." Harold affirmed.

Arthur grumbled to himself.

"You know that marriage is a long and complicated business arrangement. One you should never enter into lightly. You and Olivia haven't known each other long. Not as adults anyway." Arthur said.

"I know that." Harold said. "How did you know mother was the right woman to marry?"

Arthur's mind rolled back to that humid day in 1912. He was waiting for a train... checking his old pocket watch that had never worked right since the _Empress_ sank. A thin, petite girl came into the train station dinning hall in a wrinkled grey dress and a silly looking hat that was too big.

But when she sat down, her face was so inescapably honest, so kind and full of life, he had known. He felt something inside him grow warm and reassured at the idea that she would be his wife. That everything would fall neatly into place with her by his side.

For the most part, he had been right. His gut instinct had proven correct in marrying a total stranger. If it hadn't been for Eames, she would still be alive and pressuring Arthur to let Harold marry Olivia.

It suddenly occurred to him that Ariadne would have wanted Olivia to marry Harold. Would want it more than anything in the world. Arthur could never say no to his convenient wife.

"I knew Ariadne was right for me." Arthur whispered. "I regret losing her, everyday."

He sniffed slightly and willed her ghost away. That damn woman who haunted his every waking hour.

"You have my blessing, Harold." Arthur growled. "I do not intend to let my daughter be penniless and dependent on you to provide for her. I will establish a trust for her personal living expenses. I don't want my child to have to depend on you for money."

Harold looked slightly insulted, but said nothing.

"You will not have access to any of her accounts, however." Arthur snarled. "When the time comes, I'll decide how I want to divide my empire. She may get everything, or nothing."

"All I want is my bride, sir." Harold said and stood.

Arthur was surprised that Harold offered him his hand to shake.

"She's the most precious thing in the world to me, Harold. I'm a very rich man, but she's all I have in the world. I will make you very sorry if her heart is broken over you." Arthur said coldly.

~ Felicity opened her eyes to find herself in a strange hospital bed.

Her entire body hurt. It was like she had run for miles without stopping and now her legs, back and even arms were sore from the harsh workout.

"Look who's awake." came a pleasing female voice in a strange accent. "We've been worried after you, Mrs. White."

'_Mrs. White?_' Felicity thought briefly as a nurse in a blue habit came to her side.

"We've gotten you over the worst of it now. All we have to do is get our strength back." the nurse said as she helped Felicity out of the bed.

"It hurts." the invalid whispered as her feet hit the cold floor of the hospital.

"I know. You've been sick and we need to get more fluids in you." the nurse said. "But you'll be right as rain in no time."

"What happened on the ship?" Felicity asked as the nurse helped her to stand and they walked to the bathroom.

"Oh, you don't remember? There was a typhoid outbreak. I guess it's lucky you don't remember. The papers are all saying how the crew was dumping bodies into the sea to stop the spread. We've been trying to find your family, Mrs. White. The passenger list is a mess right now and we hardly know what's what." the nurse was saying.

Felicity blocked all of this out as her memories of the the rickety, questionable ship resurfaced.

A hellish voyage, bad food and over crowding. Bathrooms that wouldn't work and no one on the crew had been willing to help.

Felicity had made friends with Emily White and her husband right away as the sickness gripped the poor people below decks first. It spread like wild fire from there as the system seemed to break down in just a few days.

One day, Emily's little boy and husband were fine, the next they were dead. The crews were dumping bodies overboard to arrest the spread. Burning passenger lists to avoid being held accountable for deaths.

The brutal realities a sea voyage were not as romantic as she had hoped. It had quickly turned into a living hell with no escape.

Soon Emily became ill and died in the night. Felicity, for her own reasons, started to wear the light, summer coat she left behind. The one with her name stitched in the collar in case it went astray.

When Felicity fell ill and knew she was going to die, she forgot that her identification and travel papers were in her bag. Instead, she must have been found with Emily White's coat on, the confusion making people think she wasn't Felicity Eames at all, but a poor widow named Emily White.

"Yes." Felicity sobbed at the idea that her real identity was now neatly concealed. No one would be looking for her now. "I'm sorry, I don't have anyone else to call. My husbanded son died on the crossing."


	33. Chapter 33

33.

~ After Arthur finally gave his consent to Olivia getting married, things happened too quickly for him to keep track of.

With Ariadne, it had been as simple as a trip tot the court house. A few words, a few promises and a simple wedding band in their fingers. Then it was off to England for the both of them.

Arthur had often wished he had given his convenient wife a more enduring ceremony with a white dress, flowers and a grand party. As soon as preparations for the high society wedding to Harold were underway, he wished he had never heard of the word wedding.

There were dress fitting for Olivia and Harold's friends who would be in the wedding party. Olivia even had her friends from school come in to be bridesmaids. The budget was swiftly blown out of proportion with catering staff and decorating for the hall.

Olivia had never been this excited in her life as she was when the big day finally arrived two weeks later.

Arthur was ready for it all to be over when he escorted her to the waiting car to take her to the simple church at Blue Rivers. The same one who's church yard Ariadne was laid to rest in.

Arthur was not about to return to main house for a silly wedding; even if it was his daughter's. He had refused Harold's idea of holding the reception in the conservatory or the gardens around the big house. The conservatory was always the place where Ariadne and Eames held court. Their intensely private world that he was never apart of.

Instead, the grand ballroom of the local inn was rented out and the reception was held there. Reporters soon got the news of Harold Hays marrying Olivia Bradford, and it wasn't long before splashy photos and tell alls about their parents were front page news.

In normal society, it might have be normal for a step brother to marry the estranged step sister he hadn't seen in fifteen years, but in the world they were apart of, and with Felicity and Eames' notoriety, Olivia and Harold became apart of the infamy.

Most of the people who attended where Harold's friends. A few reporters, curious about the disappearance of Felicity, and the hasty marriage of a young and beautiful American heiress to her step brother, Harold Hays; made for an interesting development.

Arthur tried to keep himself away from the parasitic reporters, but they were bold enough to let themselves into the ball room and snap pictures of the happy couple and all of their writer friends, before security threw them out.

Eames was conspicuous only in his absence and his refusal to respond to the invitation. The reclusive writer was on everyone's lips as sordid rumors about Felicity and her lover were still making the rounds.

Where were they? When would they resurface? Wasn't it just a delicious scandal? And now her brother Harold had married Olivia Bradford from America. Her father, Arthur was a scary tyrant of factories that were somehow weathering this horrible depression.

At the lavish reception, Arthur found himself surrounded my three eager widows who were abut his age. Asking about his work, his life in America and sharing with him their oh so tragic need for a new husband. How sad it was that his beautiful daughter was going to another man's home and how lonely he would be in America with no one to take care of him.

He tried to shake off these women with their fanatical hunger for his money and focus on Olivia and her groom.

They did make a handsome couple, Arthur decided. And they seemed very much in love. Harold was dressed pleasingly in a full on suit. A gold chain crossing over the black vest indicating he wore the gold pocket watch Arthur had given him.

But the groom was nothing compared to the bride.

Olivia looked amazing in a simple, satin white dress. It was extremely fashionable and the only thing Arthur hated about it, was that it was sleeveless. However her bridal veil was over six feet long and she looked every bit the radiant bride he had always wanted her to be.

Another thing he hated, Ariadne wasn't there. Ariadne loved Olivia so much and it seemed a great crime that she hadn't been there to help Olivia pick out her wedding dress and that she couldn't see her daughter married.

The way that Harold and Olivia would exchange little looks, made Arthur remember what it was like those first few days married to his own bride. The way he would steal glances at her when she wasn't looking. How splendid she looked at dinner on the ship and how pleased he was to have her look after him. For a fleeting moment, he was happy his daughter was married.

~ Arthur left the reception after he danced with Olivia and the party was winding down. He had neglected coming to Ariadne's grave for years now. He had even refused to see her final resting place when he came to collect Olivia right after her death.

But now, it seemed especially important to come and see her.

He was surprised Eames had her body and marker place next to a matching one that read Arthur's own name. His date of death the same as that of the _Empress of Ireland_ sinking.

It was Eames' way of tormenting Arthur. Of saying it would have been better if he had never survived the sinking at all.

"Olivia got married today." Arthur whispered to is wife's headstone.

He cleared away some dead and dried out flowers, no doubt placed there by Eames, and laid one of the white roses from the table center pieces of Olivia's wedding reception.

"She married Harold of all people." Arthur laughed. "He's a very nice young man. You would have approved."

"He _is_ a very nice young man." a drunken voice came from behind one of the headstones.

Arthur jumped and stood in fright. Dusk in an old church yard wasn't the scariest place in earth, but it was close.

"Eames?" Arthur breathed at seeing his cousin emerge from the behind a mosuleum dedicated to the Bradford's. Lady Percy's body entombed inside it.

"Having a moment with my wife I see." Eames said sourly and started to nurse the bottle of whiskey he was holding.

"I thought you gave up drinking." Arthur asked.

"I did. For _her_, I did." Eames said pointing to Ariadne's headstone. "But then she gave me that daughter of ours and I stayed a good boy for the child. But now, I have no wife, no daughter... I've nothing at all."

"Eames, lets not be morbid." Arthur grumbled. "Felicity is your child and just as prone to wanderlust as you were. She'll be home soon."

"No." Eames said darkly. "She won't."

Arthur watched Eames dig into his pockets and produce a letter. One with postal marking from far away.

He handed it to Arthur who opened it slowly.

"Australia?" Arthur asked.

"Felicity was on a ship called the _Beagle_. You remember a few weeks ago, the typhoid outbreak on that ship? So many people died and the crew was dumping bodies overboard and burning passenger lists to cover it up?" Eames asked.

Arthur read the official letter from some kind of official investigation. It stated that luggage with papers and documents belonging to Felicity Eames were found in a traveling bag onboard the _Beagle_. No sign of the girl was recovered and no one to attest she had survived the outbreak.

"She's been declared dead." Eames said pitifully. "She died in a disgusting ship surrounded by sick people and her body dumped into the sea."

Arthur watched in horror as Eames stumbled and collapsed on Ariadne's grave. The poor man weeping openly.


	34. Chapter 34

34.

~ Arthur hated returning to Blue Rivers. He hated being the one to have to escort Eames into the grand house and help him sit on one of the large chairs in what was once his office.

He grimaced when he saw his old phone was still in service at the desk he once used.

"Why didn't you ever upgrade the phone, Eames?" Arthur asked as he wondered where all the servants were. Then he realized it was late at night and the staff had most likely retired for the evening.

"Sentimental reasons." Eames sighed. "I like seeing it. It reminded me of you and Ariadne... and happier days."

Arthur didn't have an answer to that. Instead, he looked over the letter from the inquest.

"Felicity hasn't been declared dead; not yet anyway." he said at last. "All this says is there is evidence that leads them to assume she was on the ship."

"She wouldn't have left her bags, her papers behind." Eames said dully. "My daughter is dead."

"Maybe she was one of the sick and couldn't get to her bags. Maybe her bag was put on the wrong boat and she wasn't even there. It happens all the time." Arthur offered.

"This is my punishment." Eames said darkly.

"What punishment?" Arthur asked as he sat at his old desk.

Eames had interfered with his desk very little since Arthur left. He seemed to want to keep it at the ready for when Arthur returned.

"I seduced your wife." Eames said sadly. He started to weep again at the horrible admission. "I did, I seduced her. I couldn't figure out why she loved you so much. You didn't deserve her, Arthur. You were arrogant and had to have your own way, but she loved you."

Eames wiped his face off with his sleeve like he was a child.

"I wanted her is all. I saw this beautiful creature with a man who wasn't worthy of her. With a man who didn't appreciate her. I saw how she looked at you. How she adored you and made you look like a better man. I wanted that."

He face seemed to collapse.

"So, I went after her. I pursued her relentlessly. She never gave in." he assured Arthur. "She married Fredrick to prove she could never love me. When he was wounded and dyeing, I pursued her again. I wanted her more than ever and I wouldn't stop until I had her."

Eames looked a pitfall sight slumped in his chair.

"This is my punishment. Ariadne died calling for you. She never once asked for me." he sobbed. "Now, our daughter is dead and I have nothing."

"Eames." Arthur said softly. "That's just the drink talking."

"I'm not a good person. I seduced your wife. I made her love me. If she had been willing, I would have stolen her from you long before the _Empress_. She was never with me until after we thought you were dead. It's important you know that. Your wife loved you. Even if you never gave a damn about her." Eames said in a dead tone.

"How could you think for a moment I didn't love Ariadne?" Arthur barked. "She was my wife."

"You married her out of sheer convenance." Eames snarled. "You married a total stranger and you never loved her the way I did!"

"You didn't love her. You can't love anyone. All you did was lust after her because she belonged to me." Arthur told him.

"See? That's why you didn't deserve her, Arthur." Eames pointed out. A small smile etching over his face. "She was like one of your fancy cars. She made you look good, and she impressed all the right people. But you never really loved her."

"I'm done talking about the past with you, Eames." Arthur said and stood. "I'm going to tell your man to make up a bed for you. In the morning, I'll have my lawyer inquire about the exact details of Felicity's luggage and see what's going on down there in Australia. If need be, the two of us will go there and find out what the hell is going on."

"You would try to help me find my daughter?" Eames whispered.

"I would try and find _Ariadne's_ daughter." Arthur corrected.

The sober man left the drunkard in the library. He had had enough of Eames' company for a lifetime.

~ He had forgotten how massive and maze like Blue Rivers was. The remodle after the fire had changed the layout somewhat, and Arthur's memory was not as sharp as it once was. It took him the better part of half an hour to find his way to the servant's hall.

He mostly remembered the good times here. Of having the first phone call in the butler's office with the staff around them. Ariadne and the new baby looking especially fetching that day. Lady Percy and Philipa excited by the prospect of the new telephone in the house.

He shook his head and tried to free himself of those memories.

"Mills?" Arthur barked when he saw the older butler sitting at a large table and shinning a pair of shoes.

"Sir?" the butler said and stood.

"Mr. Eames and I need your assistance. He's under the weather." Arthur said gently.

"He normally had a bed in the conservatory, sir." Mills directed. "However, Miss Bradford has not been allowing him to sleep there. She insists on him, to use her words, sir: Live like a member of the human race."

Arthur raised an eyebrow at this.

"Oh yes, sir." Mills told him eagerly. "It seems she didn't care for him living in the conservatory where it was too cold and made him use his room upstairs. She then had the entire staff clean the conservatory an air it out. I must say, the lady has been very good for him."

"Well, that's Olivia." Arthur grumbled as he remembered how much Olivia was like her mother.

"The new Mrs. Hays has left standing orders that Mr. Eames is not to hide in the conservatory unless it is daylight and he is writing." Mills went on as he showed Arthur the shortest way out of the basement.

"Has Eames been living in the conservatory since his wife died?" Arthur asked.

"Oh yes, sir." Mills said. "Simply horrid, that business was. He left the rearing of the children strictly to Maura. She didn't mind, and, with the exception of lady Felicity's recent indiscretion, I think they have turned out splendidly."

"Hmm." Arthur grumbled. "I should have taken Harold and Felicity with me when I had the chance. If Ariadne hadn't chosen to come back to this place, she would still be alive and Felicity would be a proper young lady."

"And yet, we can't change that past, sir." Mills said. "So, there is no use crying over it."

Arthur glared at the poor, sickly butler.

"Help me with Mr. Eames." he ordered.

~ The library was empty. Not even a ghost was haunting it.

"Perhaps he went to his room on his own volition, sir." Mills offered.

Arthur was doubtful as the two men wandered out of the empty library and back into the foyer.

"After the fire, was the conservatory rebuilt in the same place?" Arthur asked.

"Yes, sir." Mills said brightly. "Mr. Eames' book was doing well and he had it built just as it was.

The small butler could barely match Arthur's long strides down the hall and to the stained glass door of the conservatory.

He took a deep breath, knowing precisely what he would find.

Eames was hanging by a rope that was supported by one of the beams of the conservatory.

His eyes were already glassed over and staring as his lifeless body hung limply four feet off the ground.

"Eames!" Arthur shouted and ran to hold his cousin up.

He wasn't sure why he didn't want the scoundrel to die. Suicide seemed such a fitting thing for him to do. A lifetime of depression, alcoholism, and reckless thoughts would surely have lead to this.

"Call an ambulance!" Arthur shouted to Mills as he tried to hold Eames up.

He could feel his cousin was already dead.

His body was cold and seemed lighter than normal. As if his heavy soul had finally been free, and left just a miserable shell.

Arthur found he was crying softly as he finally let Eames go. His body twirling on the end of the rope.

He caught sight of Ariadne's beautiful portrait on leaning on a chair. Eames had confiscated it from somewhere and had wanted her to see him die.

Arthur grimaced under the watchful eyes of his convenient wife. Wondering what she would say when she came to him tonight in his dreams.

**I'm going to end this part of the story for now. I WILL return to it, but it doesn't hold the same magic with me as "Convenient Wife" did. Right now, I want to work on something else. Besides, I miss writing A&A. **


End file.
